


The Professional

by wednesdays__child



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Anal Sex, Angst, Attempted Murder, F/M, M/M, Murder for Hire, Not Nice Haley, Slow Burn, Unsub!Reid, Violence, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 16:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 38,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11017308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesdays__child/pseuds/wednesdays__child
Summary: Dr. Spencer Reid is a genius with Ph.Ds. in Mathematics and Engineering but his passion is Chemistry. He's also an assassin known simply as The Doctor - a deadly hitman who kills with poison and leaves no trace behind.  He enjoys his occupation and his place in The Guild with his partner, Elle Greenaway. Then one day he gets a new mark - FBI agent Aaron Hotchner. What happens when he meets his mark and finds himself falling in love? Will he be willing to give up everything he is for someone he hardly knows?





	1. Prologue: The Pretender

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dazeventura6](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dazeventura6/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [Dazeventura6](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dazeventura6/pseuds/Dazeventura6) in the [profilers_anon](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/profilers_anon) collection. 



> This was an idea prompt that just took root and wouldn't let go.
> 
> Betaed by Dazeventura6. I can NOT thank you enough for this idea. You were so instrumental in making this fic coherent. I can not thank you enough.
> 
> Art by Rivermoon1970. It is all brilliant and I love it so much. Thank you for all your input and dealing with all of my anxiety over this piece.
> 
> Special thanks to Susspencer for all her cheerleading over this entire process. You helped in so many ways.
> 
> Some dialogue was taken directly from several episodes from Season One of Criminal Minds. No copyright infringement is intended. There are references to the John Wick Universe but you do not need to be familiar with it to enjoy this fic. 
> 
> I made a music playlist to go along with this fic because I love to listen to music as I write. It can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLTKrbwmnKkUZeDBPi5zJj27c9S0Zi1x_H

**Prologue**

  **The Pretender**

 Spencer looked down at the man on the bed, tilting his head slightly to the side as he took in the sight of the blue-tinged lips.

"That's not right," he murmured to himself. 

Reaching down, he discovered the man's toes were ice cold as well. Curious.

 "Five more minutes," he promised himself. 

He had never been wrong before but he supposed there was a first time for everything, so he set the timer on his phone for five minutes before he continued to clean and set the room. Every bit of evidence was painstakingly removed and put in his bag. He washed down the body with his special cleaner, eliminating what he didn't want to be discovered. He left the man's privates and hole alone. Some things were just too tantalizing to pass up and the revelation that the Senator had recently been fucked by a man was one that Spencer was going to enjoy seeing splashed all over the news. 

He quickly changed back into his clothes and pulled his hair out of its ponytail, letting the long locks fall around his face once again. Standing at the foot of the bed, Spencer smiled as he watched the blue fade from the slack lips and the still toes began to warm as the toxin began to metabolize in the dead man's system. He made a mental note to account for possible variations in drug interaction due to diabetes in the future.

He stopped the timer just before it went off and held up the phone, snapping several pictures from different angles. He quickly sent them off with a hurried text message:  

_**It's done. Meet in 10.**  _ 

Finally, he pulled the sheet up over the body and tucked it in slightly, making it look like he was simply sleeping, just how the housekeeping crew would find him, just how he wanted them to find him, just how the Medical Examiner would come in to declare the Honorable Senator Aiden Monroe from the State of Virginia had died in his sleep after a tryst with a young, male prostitute.

After one last cursory look around and a double check that his green contacts and identifying temporary tattoo were not only visible but strikingly so, he made his way to the hotel room door. 

"Damn," Spencer whispered as he looked over the room one last time, "Sometimes I really love my job."

He quickly made his way down the stairs - he never took the elevator, the cameras always worked in there - and sauntered toward the front desk. The night auditor looked up at him and smiled.

"Done for the night, Sugar?" she asked, her bright pink lipstick stuck to her teeth.

"Yup," Spencer answered in the Southern drawl he had perfected just for this job. "He's a bit worn out tonight and I got places to be."

"You're a busy boy."

"Just the way I like it, Darlin'."

He cringed at the flirting but it was a necessary cover. He made a small wave as he exited the building and disappeared into the night. He walked two blocks over before he sent the set of photos to another number before deftly clearing the phone of any and all information. Looking down at the end of the block, he saw a silver Altima idling. As he approached the vehicle, he ducked into an alley and handed the disposable cell phone to a homeless man huddled there.

"Here you go," Spencer said kindly in his own voice. "It still has a few minutes left on it."

"Thanks," the man said, slipping the phone in his pocket.

Spencer then bounced over to the car and slipped into the passenger's seat.

"Why do you always do that?" the driver asked grumpily.

"I was just going to destroy it," he answered. "Besides even if they do track it, he won't be able to identify me."

"Pussy," the other grumbled.

Just then, Spencer heard a 'ding' and the driver unlocked their phone.

"Lookie there. Payment went through. Another successful job, Spencer. Want to celebrate?"

"Sure," he said, smiling. "Where do you want to go? And please don't say..."

"Pulse," they both said at the same time.

When Spencer began to protest, the driver turned and pouted. "Come on, please Spencer.

Sighing, Spencer gave in. "Fine, Elle. Whatever you want. You're the boss

"Damn straight," Elle replied.  


	2. Who Is In Control?

**Chapter One**

**Who Is In Control?**

Spencer laid in his bed, content to sleep in late. Well, late for him. He had been laying low without a hit in over three months. That was a long stretch for him. The Bossman always kept him busy but according to Elle, things were quiet on the murder for hire front so he had to remain busy with the lecture circuit and journal articles. He loved the work but going too long without a hit was making him itchy.

Suddenly his phone chimed and he rolled over to grab it off the side table. He smiled when he saw it was from Elle.

_***Meet me 4 coffee. 1 hour*** _

"About damned time," he complained as he rolled out of bed and slipping out of his boxers and t-shirt. A quick shower and change got him to the Metro just in time so that he could meet his friend and partner at their predetermined spot.

Walking into Grinders exactly one hour after the text, Spencer made his way to the table in the corner just as Elle stood.

"Hey, Boy Genius," she greeted. "Right on time."

"A little more notice next time would be appreciated," he complained, leaning over to press a kiss to each cheek. "You know the Metro is not the best for time management."

He never drove to their meetings, too easy to trace, and the last thing he wanted to do was leave a trail someone could follow. He'd been doing this too long and had been too careful to screw it up by driving such a recognizable car.

"Stop complaining," Elle teased as she pushed his coffee toward him. "I've got something very interesting for you."

Spencer took a seat in the empty chair right in front of his coffee and a case file. He took a long sip, enjoying the delicious combination of coffee and sugar and vanilla and caramel. Moaning loudly, he turned to his partner, mouthing simply, "Perfect," as he opened the case file. It contained more information than normal which meant Elle had spent time on this one.

He looked at her sideways for a moment. "If you were so interested, why didn't you take this one?"

Elle shrugged. "She has special requirements that are beyond my scope of practice."

"So? Wife of an FBI agent wants him taken care of but not in a stray bullet accident kinda way?"

"I'll let her explain it all to you, but yeah," Elle said, biting into her scone. "This one's going to be special. I think you'll enjoy yourself with this one."

"When am I meeting the client?" Spencer asked, paging through the information quickly.

"This afternoon. Twelve thirty at Justin's Kitchen. Sit at the bar. She's a white wine girl."

Finished reading, Spencer smiled as he closed the file. At least this one looked like it could be a challenge. Exactly what he had been hoping for.

"Good. At least I won't have to flirt with her."

Elle snorted at him. He was good at subterfuge, but he hated having to make moon eyes at the ladies. "Sorry, Reid. At least try to enjoy your lunch. Now let's try to talk about something other than work."

Spencer snorted and took another sip of his coffee. "So Elle, seeing anyone?"

"Shut up, Reid," she growled, smiling wide and taking a swipe at him with the back of her hand.

 

Spencer had spent most of the day reviewing the file and doing some research of his own. This case was way beyond anything he had ever done before. All his research showed a picture perfect couple, a career man and his devoted wife. They looked like the perfect American Dream, a real Barbie and Ken. His curiosity was peaked.

Sitting at the bar, he smiled when he saw the pretty blonde woman enter the bistro. He loved talking work here. It was small enough not to attract attention but large and loud enough that they could talk without being overheard. He stood and gave a small wave, inviting the woman over to the small hightop table.

"Haley!" he called. She smiled and made her way over as if greeting an old friend.

"Spencer?" she greeted. When she reached out to shake his hand, he waved her away gently.

"Sorry, I don't shake hands," he explained. "Please, have a seat. I ordered you a glass of chardonnay."

The pretty woman eyed the glass for a moment. "Is it safe?" she asked suspiciously.

Spencer smiled. "Elle told you my specialty."

"I asked specifically."

Spencer pondered this for moment, wondering what her plan could be. "I have a rule. No women, no kids. So you're safe. Why don't we order lunch and then we can discuss business?"

Haley nodded, agreeing quickly before they ordered their lunch. They made small talk mostly about the weather and current events until their plates arrived. Tucking in, Spencer lowered his voice so that just his companion could hear him. "So? Why are looking to murder your husband?"

Haley snorted, hand covering her mouth to keep from spitting out her salad. "Elle asked me the same thing. I guess it's a valid question. Everyone thinks we are the perfect couple. FBI agent, big house, nice cars. People think I'm the trophy wife but in reality, he's the coattails I was supposed to be riding on all the way to the Governor's Mansion." She dropped her fork to her plate before leaning forward to whisper harshly at Spencer. "I married a lawyer that was going to be fast tracked into politics. We talked about it all through college and then..." she made a face full of disgust. "...then out of nowhere, he comes in and announces that he has applied to join the FBI. He gets all high and mighty and tells me this bullshit about how he needs to be out there and catch the bad guys before they they got to court. I didn't marry an FBI agent. I married an attorney. An attorney who should be a judge by now and then run for political office. I can't be Jackie O when all I have is a lowly agent for a husband."

Spencer was surprised at the amount of venom spitting out of her mouth. She hated the man she called husband. Hate was a very powerful emotion.

"So, why did you ask for me?" Spencer asked. "Elle is a master at taking out law enforcement and making it look like a work accident. One bullet, always deadly and you'd still get his life insurance money."

"Well, there is more at stake than that," Haley answered, back to enjoying her lunch. "You see, Aaron has a rather large inheritance and someone was silly enough to sign a prenuptial agreement. Once upon a time I was young and in love. If he were to die now, accidental death or not, all I would get would be the life insurance policy and the savings. There is an entire fortune that would revert over to Aaron's screw up brother, Sean."

"So what is it you are you expecting me to do?"

"Aaron needs to get sick," she explained very seriously. "Like _very_ sick. Sick enough that he thinks he's dying. I know you can do that. Elle told me. If he gets sick then he would have to change his will because he wouldn't leave his poor, loving wife alone with his only child and not provide for them. He is very chivalrous that way."

That shocked Spencer. "You're pregnant?"

Haley laughed at that then. "Good god no! Like I would ruin this body. He just has to _think_ I'm pregnant."

"And you're going to fake that how?"

She reached into her purse and pulled out piece of pink plastic in a ziplock bag. "You'd be surprised at what you can buy on the internet."

Actually, he wouldn't. He'd purchased enough interesting things himself to know what was out there.

"How long?" he asked.

"I figure three months should be plenty of time," she said with a smile. "That way I won't have to worry about having to fake a belly bump. I can be sure to schedule doctor appointments in such a way that Aaron will miss them because of his job. I mean, it's not like he doesn't miss everything the way his schedule is now. He seriously loves that job more than he does me. But I'll take care of the homelife - play the perfect wife and soon to be mother. As soon as the will is changed, then you can take him out."

It was risky. It was dangerous. He'd have to befriend and poison an FBI agent. If the pictures were any indication, a very handsome FBI agent.

"I'll have to get close to him," Spencer warned. "You can't let on that you know me at all. I may have to sleep with him."

Haley laughed at that. "Oh, don't worry about that. Aaron wouldn't sleep with you. Not only is he the most straightlaced, uptight person you'll ever meet. He is so vanilla. We have the most boring sexlife on the face of the planet."

"You're sleeping with someone else," Spencer concluded.

"Of course."

Nodding his head, Spencer leaned forward. "Ten percent down. That's twenty thousand. As soon as it clears, I'll make contact and start the process. The day after, the symptoms will start. You do not contact me for any reason. I will contact you at this cell phone. Keep it away from your husband." He slid a disposable cell phone across the table. "Understood?"

Haley simply nodded.

"Good," Spencer quickly paid the bill and stood to leave. "Stay. Finish your drink. I'll be in contact soon."

"Thank you," Haley said, her smile wide but Spencer no longer saw just a pretty blonde. She had been replaced by an evil, bitter woman. He stepped out onto the street and slipped through the crowds. He had to find a way to make contact with one Aaron Hotchner.


	3. There Must Be Something in the Water

  **Chapter Two:**

**There Must Be Something in the Water**

Spencer looked around the coffee shop, waiting for his target. He had spent several days doing his research on Aaron Hotchner. What he discovered had surprised him. Despite what Haley had told him, Aaron seemed to be a driven, passionate man. He'd been enrolled at an early age at a prominent, private boarding school before returning to his hometown after his father's death. After graduating with honors, he quickly worked on completing Bachelors and Masters degrees in quick succession before completing a Juris Doctorate at Georgetown, all by the age of twenty-three. He went to work at the Federal Prosecutor's Office and had a very successful case conviction rate. The anomaly of this picture perfect life was when he suddenly applied to the FBI Academy.

That had to have been the turning point that set Haley off, when she'd lost control of Aaron. He'd done well - high marks in all arenas, especially marksmanship, which led him to SWAT. That intrigued Spencer. SWAT was an intense, high adrenaline position, not meant for some vanilla, boring man. There was passion there somewhere. He just had to find it.

He looked down at himself again, worried that he was reading this man wrong. He'd dressed nicely, but not like he normally would. He was concerned that if he dressed too nicely, he would scare Aaron off and he couldn't have that.

So, he wore a lilac dress shirt with the dark purple tie, knotted loosely and slightly crooked. The charcoal grey vest matched the dress pants, both form fitting and figure flattering. Over the top of that, he added a loose, but extremely soft grey cardigan, taking the look from well dressed business man to geeky academic seamlessly. Tousled hair and purple Converse completed the outfit. He was ready to catch his man.

And there he was.

Spencer smiled as he watched Aaron Hotchner round the corner and head into the coffee shop. He waited until the older man had ordered his coffee and made his way to the counter with cream and sugar before he stood. Placing himself directly in the man's path, Spencer turned clumsily and stumbled, knocking into the unsuspecting target. Coffee spilled everywhere and Spencer immediately began to stammer.

"Oh my goodness! I am so sorry. I didn't see you there. Can I please get you..." he stopped suddenly as he looked into the man's face. "Agent Hotchner. Aaron Hotchner, right? I am so sorry." He watched as the other man stopped brushing at the stain spreading over his crisp, white dress shirt. Curious chocolate eyes stared into his own.

"Do I know you?" Hotchner asked.

"Oh!" Spencer gasped, smiling widely. "Dr. Spencer Reid. You and I will be on the lecture circuit at the FBI Academy together."

Aaron watched him for a moment, assessing him while he thought.

"You're the one replacing Jason Gideon?"

"Yes," Spencer replied quickly. "I figured I'd come here before our first day to get a feel for the area and some liquid courage, although of the caffeinated variety, not the alcoholic, but I didn't think you'd be here but it seems fortuitous that we would meet like this. We don't have to be there for at least another hour. Please let me buy you another coffee."

"That won't be necessary, Dr. Reid," Hotchner started to say, but Spencer quickly cut him off.

"No, please, I insist," he protested, raising a single hand as he backed up toward the counter. "I have a table in the corner. It's the one with the messenger bag hanging on the chair." When it looked like Aaron might protest, he added one last, "Please."

"Okay," the agent said with a small smile. Before he made his way to the table in the corner, he asked, "How will you know how I take my coffee?"

Spencer smirked as he turned to order their coffees. "I'll profile you."

He quickly ordered the drinks and added a couple of pastries as well, waiting for them to be warmed to perfection. Slipping over to the counter to doctor his own coffee, he slipped his hand into his pocket before surreptitiously dipping a tainted finger into Aaron's cup. By the time Spencer had made his way to the table, laden down with two cups of coffee and a plate with two large, warm croissants, the solution was well mixed with the hot, rich brew, ready for it's intended victim.

"Thank you," Hotchner said as he picked up the hot cup and took a small sip. "Almond?"

"Toffee," Spencer replied. "You appear to be a scotch or bourbon man so I figure hints of toffee would not be unwanted."

"Very good," the agent responded. "Why haven't we met?"

Spencer chuckled, ducking his head. "I actually applied to join the BAU under Jason Gideon. He came to do a recruitment event while I was at CalTech. He made me some promises that he couldn't keep, however. His plan was to push me through on my academic merits alone, get me in the field quickly. But the powers that be saw it differently and wouldn't give me a pass on the physical and firearms requirements. I had other offers, so I pulled out of the FBI, pursued other avenues."

It was easy to let the lies blend with the truth. It was what made this life both wonderfully better and infinitely worse. He waited until Aaron reached over and picked up the warm, plain croissant before venturing, "I'm sorry about Jason. I'm guessing you two were close?"

"Yeah," Aaron sighed as he swallowed hard. "He was one of my mentors and my friend. His suicide was hard to understand."

"I'm sorry," Spencer whispered as he leaned forward, dropping his hand over the large one on the table before him. He smiled inside when Aaron didn't immediately pulled away. "But if we are going to be on the same lecture circuit, maybe we can team up, do some joint lectures. I've gone over your lecture notes and I must say I'm impressed."

Aaron smiled then as he pulled his hand away, sipping his coffee again. "I just posted my notes and lecture topics last night," he said, his tone slightly skeptical. "How could you have read all that? I just got confirmation yesterday that you were put on the docket. What are you, some kind of genius?"

"Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be quantified, but I have an eidetic memory, can read twenty thousand words per minute and have an IQ of 187." When Aaron simple stared at him, he smiled. "Okay, maybe I'm a genius."

They both laughed then. Spencer decided it was a good look on the older man. He would work hard to make it happen more often.

"Wait," Hotchner said then. "You're the genius that Jason wanted to bring on board. Three Ph.Ds, right?" Spencer nodded. "That's too bad," he whispered softly. "I think you'd have made a great addition to the team."

Spencer flushed slightly at that. This target might be easier than he expected.

"Thank you, Agent Hotchner," he whispered, glancing up from beneath the fringe of hair covering his face.

"Hotch," the agent said. "Everyone calls me Hotch."

Spencer smirked as they both took another sip of their coffees.

"So, Doctor Reid, what are your specialties?"

"It's Spencer or Reid, please. I try not to throw the whole 'Doctor' thing around unless it's absolutely necessary. I have doctorates in Mathematics, Engineering and Chemistry. I'll mostly be speaking about things like biological weapons and disposal methods, and using algorithms to determine probabilities and geographic profiles."

"Geographic profiles?"

"Yeah, using locations to pinpoint where the criminals might be operating," Spencer explained, his hands moving animatedly as he talked.

"Unsubs," Hotch corrected, a warm smile gracing his face again. "That sounds very interesting. Show me?"

"Sure!" Spencer pulled out his file from his bag, laying out papers and maps to demonstrate his theories. Aaron was entranced as they debated the merits of the theory, both adding different ideas and thoughts. Spencer lost himself in the conversation until Aaron finally looked at his watch.

"Oh! We'd better get going," he said as he stood, taking the last bite of his pastry and draining his coffee. "I can't believe we've been talking for almost an hour. We should do this again."

"Well," Spencer offered. "Since we're both going to be lecturing on Mondays, why don't we meet here before. I'm planning on attending your lectures so I'll be here anyway. We can eat and then head over together."

The older man stopped and considered for a moment. Finally he nodded. "I think that sounds like a great idea," he said, smiling.

"Excellent!" Spencer said, jubilant in his actions as he picked all his papers and put them away in his bag. Finishing his own coffee, he fell in step next to the man he was going to kill as they quickly made their way toward the FBI Academy. Maybe this was going to be easier than he thought after all.


	4. You Be Alice, I'll Be The Mad Hatter

**Chapter Three**

**You Can Be Alice, I’ll Be The Mad Hatter**

 

Spencer walked away from the Academy with a huge smile on his face. The lectures had been a huge success. He sat through Aaron's opening lecture on profiling and the basic tenets of working in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. He was a dynamic speaker and Spencer could see why he'd had such a great conviction rate as a prosecutor. With his looks, deep voice and commanding presence, Aaron Hotchner could sell ice to an eskimo.

But Spencer also found the topic endlessly interesting. He really had been recruited by Jason Gideon, was honestly thrilled to join the unit. If only things hadn't gone so badly, maybe he and Aaron Hotchner would have been co-workers instead of - whatever it was they were now.

Spencer's own lecture hadn't gone as smoothly. His brain always had a tendency to work faster than his mouth and he often got lost in the telling of stories or disseminating information. Still, most of the audience seemed able to keep up and had come up with questions for him before the next week's lecture.

Surprisingly, Aaron had stayed for Spencer's lecture. They talked about the merits of their discussions and the profiler even offered to help Spencer with his talking points. He could hardly keep the smile off his face, knowing that his target was firmly within his grasp.

He'd made his way to the park close to the campus, enjoying the warm, spring day. Making his way to the pay phone, he pulled a quarter out of his pocket and dialed quickly.

"Hello?" came the soft reply on the other end of the phone.

"Contact has been made," he said gently.

"Spencer?" Haley asked.

He sighed and leaned into the small booth. "No names please."

"Oh, yes, sorry," the flustered woman answered. "Now what?"

"Now you watch," Spencer instructed. "He should start feeling poorly tonight. Write down all the symptoms you notice and their severity. Tell him you're worried and want to keep a log in case he needs to go to the doctor. Play the sympathetic wife. You can do that, can't you?"

"Yes," she responded curtly.

"Good. He and I will be meeting every Monday morning for now. I'll call back on Thursday at this time to see if I need to modify anything. If he is home, keep the phone on you and on silent. He can't find this phone."

"Okay, I can do that."

"Thursday then."

Spencer hung up without waiting for a response. Haley would do as he asked, he wasn't worried about that. Placing another coin in the payphone, he dialed a second number, waiting for an answer.

"Runaway Roasters. How can I help you?"

"Kevin, it's The Doctor."

"Hey Doc," the enthusiastic response sounded. "How was the first day on the job?"

"It was good," Spencer said with a smile. "And great job on the assignment. Putting me on the lecture circuit with Hotchner in Gideon's spot was genius. I was a little worried when you came in taking over for Tyler, but you do good work."

"Thanks," Kevin replied, obviously smiling at the praise. "Make sure you tell the Boss Man."

"I will if I ever meet him." Spencer thought for a moment before he continued. "I need one more thing for this assignment, if you're not too busy."

"Nope, what do you need?"

"I have the initial file on the mark, but would you do a more thorough search for me?" he asked. "I have a feeling I'm going to need a deeper understanding of this subject to really get the job done."

"Am I doing this on the under?" Kevin asked quietly.

Spencer smiled. This guy was good.

"Yeah," he said softly. "Just between you and me. Elle doesn't need to know."

"Consider it done."

"Thanks, Kevin."

"Not a problem, Doc," he said, his voice light and chipper. "I'll put it in your box when it's ready."

Spencer hung up, knowing that he had a lot of work to do before Monday.

  

Thursday rolled around and Spencer headed toward the second payphone. There were thirteen in the immediate area, although just last year there were nearly twenty. The dwindling use of payphones was troubling for his business. He quickly pulled out the coins and dialed.

 "Hello?"

 "Update please."

"Oh, god," Haley whispered in the phone. "I don't know what you gave him but it made him so sick! He actually stayed home on Tuesday and he never does that."

"Symptoms and severity?"

"Headache that started Monday after work and has lasted even through today. Abdominal cramps and vomiting all day Tuesday, and thanks for the warning about that! It was so gross."

Spencer smirked at the irritation in her voice. Served her right.

"Started to feel better Wednesday morning and probably would have come home if they hadn't gotten a case. He's in Illinois right now."

"Anything else?"

"No real fever but he was in a lot of pain. He seemed genuinely touched when I asked his symptoms and wrote it down just in case he had to go to the doctor. Good call on that."

"Thanks," Spencer drawled sarcastically. "I've done this a few times."

"Of course you have," she answered. "Anything else?"

"At this point, no. Just keep an eye on him and report to me any major changes or symptoms."

"Got it. Is it going to be this bad the whole time?"

"Maybe," Spencer admitted. "Occasionally, It may get worse."

"Good," she nearly growled. Spencer suddenly felt sick, wondering what he'd gotten himself into this time.


	5. I Call the Shots

**Chapter Four**

**I Call The Shots**

 

Spencer smiled when he heard the familiar voice rumble behind him.

"Good morning, Dr. Reid."

He turned to smile over his shoulder at the handsome profiler standing just slightly too close behind him. Aaron was early. Too early. Spencer had shown up ten minutes before their declared meeting time to have the solution ready. He'd have to be earlier to beat the other man to the coffee shop.

"Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner," he greeted back with a smirk on his face when the older man grimaced at the title. "Not so much fun, is it? I thought we were friends, Aaron."

The smile slipped off Hotch's face and Spencer suddenly wondered if he'd pushed too far too fast. He wanted the man to feel close to him but Aaron Hotchner wasn't a man who let people in easily. The answering smile instantly put him at ease.

"I suppose we are, Spencer," he drawled, just a peek of the Southern accent coming out. "Let me get it this time."

Spencer quickly waved him away. "You go get our table. I'll get the coffee."

Aaron shook his head. "You got the coffee last time. My turn."

"Last time was paying you back for spilling on you. The least I can do is get again this time. You can catch me go around."

"Fine," Aaron conceded. "Next time. But no croissant today. I have to watch my figure. Grab me the blueberry oatmeal, please."

When he felt the gentle brush of warm fingers against his shoulder trailing down his back, he knew he had chosen wisely. The sweater he'd picked to wear was baby soft and the perfect shade of lilac to set off his eyes. Men were so easy.

He grabbed and doctored the coffees and by the time he sat down, their food had arrived. "How was your week, Aaron?"

Hotch sighed as he took a large bite of the steamy oats. "Pretty awful actually," he started after swallowing. "I ended up getting really sick. I never really get sick like that. It worried me a little for a while. I actually considered going to the doctor it was so bad. But it evened out eventually but I'm still a little shaky."

"Shaky how?" Spencer was intrigued. Haley hadn't mentioned any weakness.

"I normally run at least ten miles on the weekends but I could barely get eight in yesterday before it felt like my legs were on fire. I know I'm getting old, but I've never had problems like this before. It's a little disconcerting."

Spencer reached over, carefully covering Aaron's large hand with his own. "You are _not_ old. You look amazing. But be careful, Aaron," he said, concern filling his voice. "Your health is very important."

"I know," Hotch said, before gently pulling his hand away. "Haley said the same thing."

They stared at each other in a moment, and after the moment passed, Spencer asked, "So what are we discussing this week?"

Aaron pulled out his notes and very animatedly began to detail his lecture ideas for the next several weeks.

For five weeks it went that way. They would meet at the cafe and then go to lecture. They both attended each other's hour and the cadets had gotten used to them playing off each other and often egging each other on. At one time, the class was happy to learn that they could easily distract the young doctor into rambling about a topic, only to be periodically interrupted by insight from the older profiler.

Spencer found himself looking forward to the lectures and spending time with Aaron. He discovered, quite pleasantly, that the Agent was very intelligent and extremely well-versed. He could keep up on a number of topics and even stumped Spencer a time or two. If it weren't for the fact that he was systematically poisoning the man, he could see this arrangement continuing for a great long while.

After their sixth week, Spencer felt they were ready to move on to the next phase. It was time to scare Aaron.

He called Haley at their usual time and listened as she listed off his symptoms before she began to complain.

"Seriously?! How long is this going to take?" she asked, her voice filled with exasperation.

"You wanted this to take a while," Spencer politely explained. "It was in the contract."

"Fine! Yes, alright," she acquiesced.

"I have something new for you to do. After he gets sick next week, either Monday afternoon or Tuesday, go to the store and get Leucine and CoQ10. They are amino acids and will be in the supplement section of any drug or chain store so they won't raise any flags. Two hundred milligram dosage each. Have him take one tablet of each every other day. Tell him you were worried about him and did some research on the internet and his symptoms show this will help him. It'll interact with the drugs in his system and keep him sick even if I can't meet with him on Mondays due to cases or long weekends."

"That's it? Supplements?"

"That's it," Spencer replied before harshly hanging up on her. He wondered what Aaron had ever seen in her in the first place.

That very next Monday, after they were through with their lectures, Aaron waited around until Spencer had finished answering all the questions the cadets had as he packed up his things. When he approached the younger man, he swayed slightly on his feet, unsteady enough that Spencer reached out to steady him by the elbow for a moment.

"Are you alright?" Spencer asked, concern creasing his brow. "You don't look so well."

"I'm starting to feel a little off again. Sorry," Hotch apologized. "Maybe we should skip the coffee shop next week. I'm beginning to worry that there is something there that is making me ill."

"Oh, yeah, sure." He had to think of something and quick. "You know, you could come to mine before lecture time. I live close and I'm not too bad a cook. I could have coffee and something to snack on before we head over ready to go. It'd be quieter too."

Hotch watched him for several long moments and he wondered if he'd gone too far. Aaron slowly shook his head. "Sure, Reid. That sounds great actually. Haley's wonderful but she's not the best cook. But you'll have to let me take you to lunch once a week to make up for it, at least when I'm in town."

"Deal!" Spencer crowed, smiling widely. "Why don't you give me your number and I'll text you my address?"

Aaron quickly pulled out his cell phone before unlocking it and handling it over to the younger man. Spencer took note of the code and filed the information away for later. He entered his contact information before pressing the call button. Once his own phone began to ring, he hung up and then handed the phone back. After entering Hotch's information in his own phone, he looked up and smiled.

"Okay. Now we have each other's information. Feel free to call if you want. Or text. Whatever. I'm usually up late, you know, working on articles or formulas or whatnot. Did I just say whatnot? I don't' know why I'm so jumpy. It's just..."

"Spencer," Aaron stopped him with a gentle smile. "I'm not flirting with you, okay? It's not like that. I'm happily married. I like our discussions and I'd like to consider you a friend. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah!" he replied, maybe a little too enthusiastically. "Yeah." he tried again at a more normal volume. "I'd like that, Hotch."

Aaron smiled at him, that blinding, dimple revealing smile that did weird things to Spencer's insides. "Good," he said. "I've got to get to the office but let's talk about lunch plans for this week. How does Thursday sound?"

"Thursday sounds perfect."

They left then, walking shoulder to shoulder down the hall until Aaron left for his office and Spencer made his way to the Metro. He had to get to his lab. The reaction was wrong - there was no reason for Aaron to get that sick that fast. He needed to isolate the problem and refine his solution. This just wouldn't do. As he hit the street, he pulled out his burner phone and quickly dialed a number.

"Runaway Roasters. How can I help you?"

"Kevin, it's The Doctor."

"Doc!" the techie greeted. "Didn't expect to hear from you so soon. I'm still working on that file you asked for."

"Great Kevin, but I've got a more pressing need right now. I kinda need you to find me an apartment.


	6. You Make Me a Believer

**Chapter Five**

**You Make Me a Believer**

Spencer paced up and down the path in front of the payphone. He was waiting for the right time to call and he was getting antsy. He needed answers and he wanted them now. He hated waiting like this. Besides, Hotch had sent him a text asking to have lunch today and they would be meeting right after the call. He couldn't be late, not with Aaron's habit for punctuality.

Finally, it was eleven am on the dot and he placed the call.

"Hello?"

"What did you do?" he asked, the anger and contempt easily recognizable in his voice.

"Excuse me," Haley snapped back.

"What did you do?" Spencer repeated. "You did something, gave him something. I checked and double checked my formula and there is no way he should have gotten that sick that quickly. So? What did you do?"

"Nothing," Haley lied, her voice strained because of it.

After a moment of silence, she finally relented.

"Fine! I gave him that stuff you told me about."

"You stupid bitch," Spencer complained, barely reigning in his anger. "I told you to give it to him Monday afternoon! You could have killed him."

"I didn't know!" she yelled back.

"Yes you did! I gave you specific instructions. What I do is very detail oriented and by changing one tiny variable, you could have completely destroyed all of my work! If you can't follow instructions, I'm terminating this contract now."

"No!" Haley shouted before quickly pleading, "Please don't. I'm sorry. I just got anxious, that's all. I thought maybe doing that would speed things up."

"It could have," Spencer nearly growled.

The line was silent for several long moments before Haley whispered, "Sorry."

Spencer snorted. She really was a piece of work. "Symptoms and severity."

Haley quickly gave him the rundown. Severe pain this time. Less vomiting, which she was grateful for but Aaron complained of a major increase in joint and muscle pain. The symptoms had all died down by Wednesday and he was back to his normal self which seemed to annoy the woman.

"Did you put something in that stuff to increase his libido?" she asked, her voice pinched and high. "When he's not sick as a dog, he's all over me. 

That was interesting. Spencer made a quick mental note of that. "No. There should be no reason for him to be more amorous than normal, at least not from what I'm giving him. But isn't that good for you? When are you dropping the baby bombshell on him?"

She sighed, sounding completely put out. "I have to wait another week, maybe two to make it fit the timeframe so he doesn't get suspicious."

"Good. Keep giving him the supplements but please don't do anything else. You wouldn't like it if you did."

Spencer hung up before she could say anything else. Most times he didn't have a problem controlling his anger, but Haley seemed to bring out the worst in him. She was, by far, the most frustrating client he'd ever had. As he turned away from the payphone, he was surprised to see Aaron walking toward him.

"Spencer?" the older man called.

"Hotch!" Spencer answered, waving slightly. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just on my way over to meet you for lunch and I realized I was early so I decided to walk through the park," Aaron explained. "Were you just on that payphone?"

"Yeah," he ducked his head, looking embarrassed. "I forgot to plug my cell phone in last night and it's nearly dead. I had to check in with a client and didn't want to worry about it dying mid-call. Can you believe they still have some of these that actually work in the city?"

"How many do you figure there are?"

Spencer smiled lightly. "With the decline of their use due to the increase in cell phone usage, most payphones have been lost to either vandalism or damage that is too expensive for the owners to fix. This doesn't even take into account the number of phones that simply can't be repaired due to the fact that they are so old they don't even make the parts to fix them anymore. That being said, last year there were only twenty eight payphones in operation in the city. This year, there are less than fifteen."

Aaron chuckled as he shook his head. "The things you know amazes me."

The flush on his cheeks was not feigned.

"Lunch?" Spencer prompted.

"Lunch. Chinese okay?"

"As long as I don't have to use chopsticks."

Hunan cuisine was something that Spencer hadn't really had the opportunity to try before and now he was regretting that. Everything they had tried was delicious. His favorite was the Hunan Beef. It was spicy and tender and Spencer could barely hold back the moan as he shoved another piece in his mouth. Aaron chuckled around his bite of Dong'an Chicken. "Good?" he asked.

"So good," Spencer moaned again.

Aaron shifted closer. "Are you sure you don't want me to show you how to use chopsticks? I think you're just overthinking it."

"I'm impossible with them. You're just setting yourself up for failure. It's like foraging for food with two number two pencils. I find it hard to believe that two billion people remain nourished using these things. Trust me, you won’t have any luck."

"I'll take that challenge."

Aaron leaned forward, reaching over to take Spencer's hand in his own. He placed the sticks between the long, delicate fingers, explaining softly what he wanted Spencer to do. "This one you rest next to your thumb, almost like a pencil. Now this one rests here, between these two fingers, good. Only the top stick will move if you...no....wait...."

They laughed as Aaron tried to help adjust Spencer's technique and grip. Finally he reached around, settling his hand over the younger man's, his warm chest pressed to Spencer’s back. Slowly, he reached down and picked up a piece of beef before slipping the tasty meat between the soft, plump lips. Spencer chewed, turning his head until his eyes locked on Aaron's own. They were close, almost too close and suddenly Aaron cleared his throat and slipped away, moving back to finish his meal. When Spencer was able to pick up another piece of food and successfully move it to his mouth, Aaron smiled wide.

"Told you you were overthinking it."

Spencer chuckled, picking up another piece of beef.

"How are you, Aaron?" he asked then, his voice quiet, almost too low in the loud restaurant. "I'm concerned about you."

The profiler looked like he was going to protest, say that nothing was wrong, when his face fell and he dropped his hands to his lap. "I'm worried, Spencer."

Spencer leaned in close, pitching his voice low. "What's the matter?"

"I've been sick. And not in any way that I've ever been sick before. I generally don't get sick and this is really beginning to worry me."

"Everyone gets sick once in awhile," Spencer whispered.

"Not like this, besides..." he paused.

"What, Aaron?" He laid his warm fingers over Aaron's own.

"My father."

Spencer's frowned at that. He had absolutely no information on the elder Hotchner and this moment really threw him.

"What about your father?"

Aaron sighed before pushing forward. "My father died when I was young. Cancer. It was awful. I wasn't home when all of it happened, but I heard it from my mother and brother. He ended up finally succumbing to a heart attack. I'm the same age he was when he first started showing signs. What if...what if my symptoms are the same? What if..?"

Spencer squeezed the hand beneath his, surprised at the emotions he was feeling. "You'll be okay, Aaron. Don't worry and take care of yourself. If you still feel sick, maybe you should go to the doctor."

"That's what Haley said," Aaron answered, quickly pulling away like he always did when he mentioned his wife. "I just can't get that thought out of my head."

"I'll make you a deal, Aaron. Anytime you start to have that worry, feel free to call or text me."

Aaron smiled back.

"Deal."

 

Spencer sighed with relief when Aaron sent him a hasty text late Sunday night.

***Tied up on a new case. Will miss lecture tomorrow.***

Spencer smiled as he answered the text, letting Aaron know it was alright and he would cover the lecture for him. He honestly couldn't believe his luck. Kevin had located an apartment but he'd not had time to get in and settled yet. If Hotch was local, he had no idea when he'd want to come over and Spencer needed to be ready.

***I'll let you know if I'm available for lunch Thursday.***

Spencer tried his best to ignore the warmth that pooled in his belly as he smiled at his phone.

Monday morning's lectures were overall successful, even if some of the cadets seemed a little put out that Aaron wouldn't be there for his. The possibility had already been discussed but some people just wouldn't let it go. He was looking forward to going back to his lab and working on a new formula for Aaron when his phone rang. When he saw who was calling, he smiled as he answered.

"Aaron," he greeted jovially. "You didn't need to call to check up on me. I promise I left the class in one piece."

The chuckle in his ear made him smile even wider.

"No, Spencer, I wasn't checking up on you. I actually wanted to see if I could get your help."

"My help?"

"This case, it's...it's a tough one, Spencer. I can't give you all the details for the obvious reasons but I was hoping to get a fresh set of eyes on this."

"Oh." That was unexpected. "Sure, Hotch. What have you got? 

Aaron quickly filled him in on the basics - a family annihilator who was making it look like a murder/suicide, using families that were having issues but had no obvious connection to each other. They were at a loss for how the Unsub was targeting these particular families. He had to know personal details about them to be able to get to them just as they are getting ready to leave for vacation.  

Spencer sighed and started thinking out loud.

"So they were all having issues - financial or marital. Who do you talk to when you are having problems?"

"We looked at counseling but the second family wasn't in therapy," Aaron explained.

"Some insurance companies have policies that bill therapy or mental health services differently. Or some people choose to pay privately so it doesn't show up on their insurance. Mental health issues, no matter how minor, continue to hold a certain stigma. But what about pharmaceuticals? No one gets therapy these days without a healthy dose of medication."

"What are you implying, Reid?"

"That everyone is medicated."

It was silent on the line for a moment. "Did you just make a joke?"

"No. I meant statistically speaking. They...they show that..."

"Reid? Next time, just say yes." They both chuckled. "Thanks for the insight. I'll let you know how it goes."

"Any time, Hotch." He smiled as he put his phone away.  

Gain the trust of the target. Get in his inner circle. Made sure you're close enough to have access. But not too close. One of Elle's rules: Never get attached to the mark. Usually getting close meant sleeping with the hit but Aaron was different. <b>This</b> was different.

Spencer found it both terrifying and thrilling. Everything about this case made him feel this way. That probably wasn't a good thing.


	7. Too Close

**Chapter Six**

**Too Close**

Spencer smiled as looked down at the text sent to him the night before.

***Caught The Fox thanks to you. Lunch tomorrow? Thai Palace?***

He was sure he wasn't the deciding factor on the case but he felt a burst of pride knowing that he had helped, even in some small way. He waited at the table in the far corner, his back to the door, looking at the text.

"You know, staring at it won't make it do any tricks, right?"

Spencer jumped and smiled at the older man as he walked around the table and slipped into the seat in the corner.

"Sorry I'm late," Aaron apologized as he sat in the chair. "Put me in the corner?"

Spencer smiled. "You're not late so no worries. You like to have a view of the exits. I didn't want to take that seat and have you uncomfortable the entire time."

Chuckling, Aaron shook his head. "You're becoming quite the proflier, Reid."

"Thanks." That warmth in his belly was back and he couldn't hold back his smile. "I got us tea," he motioned toward the small pot between them. "I know it's not sweet tea so I hope it will do."

Hotch reached over and picked up the teapot, quickly pouring them both a cup of steaming tea. "What makes you think I drink sweet tea."

"Southern upbringing." When Aaron arched an eyebrow at him, Spencer smirked. "No. I didn't go stalking you, I promise. Every once in a while, your accent slips out. You do a good job of hiding it most of the time though. My initial guess was North Carolina."

"Virginia. Mannasus actually."

That halted the conversation completely. They both took a sip of their tea, Spencer watching intently for any reaction. When he saw none, he knew he'd found a successful formula. It had been simple to taint Aaron's cup before he got there, just a simple swipe of his finger across the bottom of the cup and he had enough of a dose for the week.

After another painfully awkward moment of silence, Spencer added, "Sorry if that's a touchy topic for you."

"No," Aaron argued, probably too quickly. "I haven't been home in a very long time."

Spencer simply nodded in responce. "Neither have I."

The smile was back then. "Where's home for Doctor Reid?"

"Las Vegas."

Aaron chuckled. "You're a long way from home."

Taking a sip from his tea, Spencer just smiled. "You have no idea."

The waitress came to take their orders then - Spencer getting drunken noodles and Aaron ordering the Tom Kah soup. They discussed the class and lecture that Aaron had missed before deciding on the direction for the next lectures would be a joint discussion about geographic profiling. After the food was gone, Aaron poured out the last of the pot of tea before settling back with a smile, sipping the cooling brew.

"You really helped us out, Reid," he said quietly. "I don't know that we would have solved this case without you."

Spencer smiled again, his head dipping as he looked up at Aaron, his act shy and unsure of himself. "I didn't do much. That was just me thinking out loud."

"No, it wasn't just you thinking out loud. I don't know why you have to sell yourself short like this. The information you gave us helped us find this man. I don't know how much longer it would have taken for us to put it all together without you and your insight."

Aaron had leaned forward and placed his own warm hard over Spencer's own. "I take it this case wasa pretty bad?"

"The worst."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You can't help what an Unsub does."

"Maybe I could have, if I'd stayed in the FBI."

For the first time in a long time, Spencer thought maybe he'd been wrong to leave all those years ago. Back then, he'd had a feeling that the FBI was where he belonged. It had been hard to walk away, despite all that had happened to him. It was something that still haunted him, like an itch under his skin that he just couldn't quite reach.

"Well, it's only been, what? Three years since you left the Academy? Would you consider coming back? Doing the last of your qualifications to become an agent?"

Spencer laughed then. It was a ludicris idea. A ludicris idea that suddenly seemed very tempting.

"I couldn't," he finally whispered, "I enjoy what I do and I don't know if I would be willing to deal with the drop in pay."

Aaron snorted. "Do you really make that much on the lecture circuit?"

"Actually, between the speaking engagements, publications, research think tanks and patents I hold, I'm doing alright. The FBI salary would actually be a step down for me."

"Well then, maybe I should let you get the bill for this."

"Maybe I already have."

They stared at each other for a moment until Aaron just shook his head. "You didn't."

Spencer just smiled back.

> Aaron was home to make the lecture that Monday and Spencer was satisfied with the way the apartment had turned out. Even on short notice, Kevin got things done. It was a cute little flat not too far from the academy. If he didn't already have a place he loved with a perfect workspace, he would consider continuing to live here. However, he knew that wouldn't be a possibility. It was a rule to always burn a temporary location after a job. You never wanted anything that could tie you to a possible hit or a dead target. It was too bad, really, especially when Spencer was standing in the small kitchen finishing up the last of their meal and silently watching Aaron. The older man was standing, bathed in beautiful white light staring out the lone window of the flat. The large plate glass window looked out over the cityscape, and was nearly floor to ceiling. As Spencer watched, Aaron took another sip of his coffee before turning toward him.

"I guess you weren't kidding about how much you make to be able to afford a place like this."

Spencer smiled, dropping his gaze, slightly embarrassed at being caught staring. "I lucked out with this place. It honestly just kinda happened," he explained, completely honest for once. Feeling the need to change the topic, he asked, "Is everything alright?"

When Aaron shook his head in the negative, he pressed, "Is it about that case?"

Aaron nodded.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Aaron shook his head for a moment, disoriented by the concern or affected by the solution already in his coffee, Spencer didn't know. "Yes? No. I can't...It was awful," the older profiler whispered. "Cases with kids always are, but this guy? This guy was off the charts. Narcissitic with extreme control issues and borderline personality disorder. Four families. He murdered four whole families before we stopped him. It makes me wonder if it's worth bringing children into this world with men like him in it."

"You've never mentioned if you have any kids," he ventured.

Aaron snorted back a chuckle, shaking his head before dropping down into the dining table chair. "I didn't. I mean, I don't. Not yet anyway. Haley just told me..."

When he paused, Spencer pushed forward. "Aaron?"

"Yeah, I haven't introduced you yet, have I? Maybe we should do that some time." He stopped and started a couple of times before he charged forward. "Haley told me this morning...well, fuck - Haley's pregnant."

"That's great, Aaron." Spencer tried to make his happiness sound genuine. "Congratulations."

"Thanks."

Spencer could tell something was bothering him. The pinch of something between his eyebrows, the tightness around his mouth. Something was wrong. As they sat to eat, Spencer reached over and laid his hand over Aaron's own. "You're not happy." It wasn't a question.

Aaron answered it anyway. "I don't think it's mine."

Spencer gasped before he could stop himself, then tried to cover it with concern for the man by laying a warm hand on his arm, instead of worry that his cover had been blown. "What makes you say that?"

Shaking off the hand on his arm, Aaron's hands shot up, long fingers threading through his raven colored locks. He leaned back, hiding his face in his palms. "She's been having an affair. Well, a couple actually if I'm correct. Sometimes she smells different, different men's colognes or she douses herself in perfume to cover it up. She has at least two phones - one that I got her and I've seen her with a disposable one too. She's fucking around and she wants me to be happy that she's having a baby - our baby - but I can't guarantee that it's even mine."

"Aaron," Spencer started, pulling the older man's hands away from his face to look him in the eyes. "Are you sure it's not yours?"

"No," he admitted. "Things have been better lately, mostly since just before you and I met, by about two or three weeks. Before that, our love life had been pretty static. She didn't really seem too interested and only did it because I pushed her or seduced her. She's been mad at me for a long time, ever since I joined the FBI. She hated that I left the Federal Prosecutor's Office. Did you know that she didn't even come with me to Seattle? She refused. Said her life was here. Two years, Spencer! Two years we lived apart, only seeing each other on holidays and when I took vacation time. When I got selected to join the BAU, I couldn't tell if she was honestly happy to have me back or not. I'm gone a lot and the travelling is hard on her, I know that, but she just never seems to care that this job, doing this work, is who I am."

"Maybe having a baby is her way of extending an olive branch," Spencer offered. "Like she's saying she wants to be a family."

"She's never wanted that before," Aaron countered. "She's been on all kinds of birth control, all without telling me. The Pill, she had an IUD for a while, she did the Depo shots. I just don't know, Spencer. It just seems like the exact wrong time. And now I'm sick all the time..."

"You're still sick?" Spencer was hoping for some more insight since Aaron didn't seem to be telling his wife everything.

"Yeah," he whispered, digging into his now cold oatmeal. "It gets better and then it gets worse again. I've been taking these supplements that Haley found out of some stupid article she read online. I take them for her but I don't think they are helping."

"You should go to the doctor, Aaron," Spencer said, voicing his concern.

"I know. I'm...I'm just scared. What if it's like my father?"

"Then you'll get through it." Spencer smiled, trying to be reassuring. "You're one of the strongest men I know, Aaron Hotchner. You'll be just fine, I'm sure of it."

Aaron laughed then. "Well, if you said, then it must be true."

They went back to eating before discussing the lecture plan of the day but Spencer couldn't shake the feeling that something very bad was going to happen very soon.

Aaron got called away on another case the next day. He texted Spencer as he boarded the plane to let him know that he would probably miss their weekly lunch. Spencer quickly responded that it wasn't a problem as far as he was concerned and they could catch up another time. But when Thursday rolled around, he couldn't help but feel a little bereft at this idea of eating alone.

He called Haley at the appointed time and she spouted off the information she just like she always had.

"You dropped the bomb," he stated flatly.

"Yeah. He didn't seem terribly excited."

"Mostly because he knows you've been fucking around," he nearly spat. "You seriously thought you could hide an affair from a trained profiler? I have no idea how we are actually going to pull this off if you're this stupid!"

"Look!" she shouted back. "I'm doing the best that I can. You don't know me and what I've gone through! You only see what Aaron wants you to see. I've lived with being alone night after night after night while he's off playing the hero. I've lived with the nightmares. I've lived with him being closed off and cold for days on end after a bad case only to have him come home and want to make love at the worst time. You don't know me so you don't get to judge me. I'm paying you to do a job. Just get it done."

This time, the phone was slammed shut in his ear and Spencer recoiled at the sound. He'd never done this before, get so involved in a mark, felt so close to someone he was killing. Maybe he needed a new perspective on this case. Maybe it was time to go see Elle.


	8. Heathens

**Chapter Seven**

**Heathens**

Spencer sighed as he walked into Pulse. He really hated this place but Elle loved it. It was her go to place when they needed to meet on short notice. It was loud and crowded and no one would overhear them.

Laine smiled at him when he entered the lobby. The blond man was co-owner of the club and second in command for the Boss of the Guild. He specialized in knives and all things that required close quarters. He was very good at what he did. All the orders came down through Laine as no one had met the Boss, not even Elle. Spencer knew that Elle and Laine had been involved on and off for years but he never asked, never pushed the issue. He'd wanted to meet the man in charge but so far he'd been put off but as long as he got contracts and he got paid, he was good with the arrangement.

"Doc," Laine greeted, walking over to place his hand in the small of Spencer's back. He knew that the other man wanted him in the worst way, he'd been less that subtle about it, but Spencer wasn't in the mood tonight. "Elle is in the back. Let me take you."

When the other man opened the doors to the club, the sights and sounds assaulted Spencer's senses and he flinched back slightly. The music was so loud that Spencer was sure that he could feel the bass altering his cardiac rhythms. As Laine led him through the crowd, bodies pressed in around them, rolling and writhing, tempting them to join in the dance. Spencer had dressed for this place; tight lean jeans, heavy leather studded belt and buttery soft button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was more than the way he dressed, it was the way he carried himself. He couldn't be geeky, clumsy Spencer - not here. Here he was The Doctor - confident, seductive Hitman.

As they slowly made their way across the dance floor, Spencer smirked as he recognized the song currently playing. It was one of Elle's favorites.

_All my friends are heathens, take it slow. Wait for them to ask you who you know. Please don't make any sudden moves. You don't the half of the abuse._

Fitting. 

As they approached the table on the far end of the dance floor, Spencer smirked at the sight before him. Elle was leaning back in the center of the rounded booth, holding court with a pretty thing at each elbow. They were leaning close, hanging on her every word as if she hung the moon in the sky. It wasn't until Laine leaned forward and knocked on the tabletop that the Latina finally looked up. Seeing him standing there, she smiled wide.

"Spencer!" she called loudly before leaning over to kiss each of the boys at her sides. "Leave us," she ordered.

Begrudgingly, the arm candy left, slinking out onto the dance floor and disappearing into the sea of bodies. On her signal, Spencer slipped into the booth before looking back at Laine. "Could I get a brandy?"

"I'll send a girl," Laine replied and then he was gone.

The two killers stared at each other for a moment, waiting until the glass was set at Spencer's elbow. "Thank you, Austin," he said with a smile before the pretty server slipped away.

After he took his first sip, Elle turned to look at him. "Spencer." That was it. Just his name and he knew he was in trouble.

"Elle," he replied back.

"What are you doing?" she asked, sounding exasperated.

"I'm working, just like I always do."

"Oh, Spencer. This is the first time I've even had a complaint about you."

"A complaint? About me?!" He was incensed at the idea. Had Haley really complained to Elle? About him?!

"Yes Spencer, about you," she chided him, sounding as if she was scolding a child. "What is rule number one?"

"No women. No kids."

Elle sighed, a harsh huff of breath. "Not your rules, Spencer, The Guild's rules."

"Never get involved with a mark."

"Never get involved with a mark," she snapped. "I have never had a problem with you fucking your targets, Spencer, you know that, but this is different. You _like_ him. You're _falling_ for him."

"No I'm n..."

"Don't fucking lie to me, Spencer!" she practically shouted, her voice harsh even over the piercing music. "Remember, I know you better than anyone else in this world. I may even know you better than you know yourself and you are falling for Mr. Perfect Fucking FBI. Well, remember what happened with the last Mr. FBI? Are you ready to go through that again?"

"Stop it," he ground out, his anger slowly starting to rise.

"No, I'm not going to stop it," she countered. "Remember how I found you? How I had to pick you up after you were broken? Remember what you said to me?"

"Never again," he whispered so low that even he could barely hear it.

"What?"

"Never again," he said, louder this time, stronger. He meant it. She was right. He was falling for Aaron Hotchner and that just wouldn't do. He would shore up his heart and do what needed to be done.

Sensing the change in her friend, she shouted, "Good," smiling then and slinging her arm around his shoulders. Picking up her glass of gin, she toasted him. "Now put your big boy panties on and finish this. The Boss Man does **not** like having to deal with unhappy clients and if the Boss Man is unhappy then I'm unhappy and you don't want me unhappy, do you, Spencer?"

"No, Elle."

"Good boy."

They clinked their glasses together, both taking a long sip before settling in the booth. Spencer knew how the rest of the night would go: Elle would tease him about not getting laid while trying to pick out someone for him to take home. He would take the teasing good-naturedly while slowly working through an impressive bottle of brandy until the noise and liquor became too much and he had to go home. Elle would insist on having Laine drive him home and once they were at his place, Laine would try to get in his apartment. Normally he would let the man in - he was good looking enough, plus he had a sinfully delicious mouth and Spencer was lonely. But Spencer knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he would be going to bed alone tonight but that somehow the ghost of Aaron Hotchner would be there too.

  

Spencer had spent most of Friday working on the next stage of his formula and shoring up his heart. This final stage would only need three doses - two to make Aaron very sick and the final one to trigger all the toxins he'd already planted there. It was brilliant. Spencer was so very proud of himself with this one. 

He was all ready to make it happen.

Then his phone rang.

He looked at the caller ID and smiled lightly.

"Aaron," he greeted with a smile as he answered the phone. "It's awfully late. Is the case over?"

"Yeah."

There was a roughness to the profiler's voice, something Spencer had never heard before. He became concerned, sure that something was wrong.

"Is everything okay?" When there was no response, he asked, "Aaron?"

"Have you eaten?" Hotch asked. "Would you like to go get a drink with me?"

Now he was worried. "Don't you need to get home? Won't your wife want you to see you?"

"I haven't talked to Haley yet. I'll call her. But would you meet me?"

He knew it was wrong, knew he shouldn't do it. He was asking for trouble but he was drawn to that soft, sad voice. "Yeah. Where did you want to go?"

"There is this place downtown called Pulse..."

"No!" Spencer interjected quickly. When he realized he'd overreacted, he explained, "That place is too loud and there is dancing. Trust me, you don't want to see that."

The small chuckle he heard through the phone made the self-depreciation worth it. "There's another place, Star and Shamrock. It's a Jewish-Irish fusion place. I think you'll love it."

"As long as I can eat and get a decent drink, I'll be happy."

"Want me to meet you there?"

"Sure." He was just about ready to hang up when he heard a softly whispered, "Thanks Reid."

"Of course, Hotch."

He went to change his outfit - quickly running through three different outfits before settling on a pair of newer jeans that weren't too tight, a dark purple button down and a dark grey waistcoat. Not wanting to be too formal, he decided to forgo a tie and jacket, hoping that Aaron wouldn't be too dressed up in his traditional suit.

As he went to leave his apartment, he turned to grab his messenger bag, knowing that the first dose was hidden inside. At the last minute, he changed his mind, leaving it hanging on the hook by the door.

When he walked inside the pub, he was surprised to see the profiler was already there on the far end of the bar nursing what appeared to be a whiskey neat. He took a moment to assess the situation. This was Aaron as he'd never seen him before. The man was dressed casual - jeans, loafers and a dark blue polo shirt. Spencer figured Aaron was hiding a decent body under those tailored suits but just that hint of biceps peeking out from beneath the short sleeves was practically making his mouth water. Without saying a word, Spencer slipped onto the empty  barstool, nodding at the bartender to bring him the same.

After the drink arrived, he turned to greet the other man, only to freeze when he caught a look at the left side of his face.

"Holy shit! Aaron, what happened to you?" he practically shouted. He brought his hand up to trace the nasty bruise that covered the other man's jaw, recoiling quickly when Aaron flinched away.

"Unsub," Aaron explained, his voice soft and rough. "Got the drop on me in a junkyard. He was stronger than he looked."

"Is that...?" It looked like an angry line of purple and red peeking out from beneath his collar.

"Garoute."

"Jesus, Aaron," Spencer cursed. "You could have been killed."

"I think that was the point," the older man said, snorting a small laugh at his own awful joke before sipping on his drink.

"How many have you had?"

"This is number two."

Spencer knew he couldn't be that drunk after only one and not quite a half a whiskey. "Maybe we need to order some food." He motioned for the bartender and quickly ordered some of his favorite food at the bar. They drank in silence, Aaron having his glass refilled once it was empty. Once the food finally arrived, Spencer quickly tucking into the Brisket Poutine Fries and Fried Green Beans, making sure Aaron was eating as well, before he stated, "You need to talk about it."

Aaron sighed. "It's never easy when you identify with the bad guy. It's worse when it's this kind of bad guy. He's a mob hitman named Vincent Perotta."

Spencer couldn't hold back the gasp at the name. He knew of Perotta. He wasn't a part of The Guild but he had subcontracted on occasion. He'd never met the man but knew of his reputation as The Butcher, specializing in torture. He covered his shock by reaching over and laying his hand over Aaron's own. "A mob hitman? Aaron, you're lucky to be alive."

"I know," the older man said, reaching up to finger at the bruised skin of his neck. "Perotta had brutally murdered a family and kidnapped an undercover FBI Agent. He was using rats to torture and then basically dispose of the bodies."

Spencer shuddered at the thought. He hadn't known about that part of The Butcher's methodology. "That's awful," he whispered.

Aaron nodded lightly, finishing his drink and signalling for another.

When he didn't continue, Spencer asked, "You said you identified with him. What do you mean?"

Aaron shook his head, like he didn't want to answer, couldn't answer. They continued to work their way through the food and whiskey as Aaron filled him in on the rest of the case. The discovery of Perotta's extensive kill list, the shock at finding out that this man was using his position as a hitman to be able to fuel his desire to torture and murder as many men as he could. The break in the case had been the anomaly - his only female victim.

The thought left Spencer a little shattered. He'd never killed a female either, it was against his own personal credo. He wondered if he had more in common with The Butcher than he would care to admit.

Finally, once the food was gone and Aaron had downed two more whiskeys, he leaned over into Spencer's personal space and whispered in his ear, "Think I could crash at your place tonight?"

His breath was warm and moist against the skin of Spencer's ear. He should say no. He should send Aaron home to his wife. He should do a lot of things.

"Sure," Spencer answered instead. "Did you drive?"

"Nope. Had Anderson drop me off."

Spencer pulled back to look into hazy brown eyes. "Call your wife. Let her know you're okay and we can go."

Aaron smiled then, that big, wide, dimple-revealing smile that did weird things to Spencer's insides and he knew one thing for sure - he was well and truly fucked when it came to Aaron Hotchner.


	9. Tell Me Where Did You Sleep Last Night

**Chapter Eight**  

**Tell Me Where Did You Sleep Last Night**

 Spencer leaned against his car and pretended to not be listening in on this half of the conversation Aaron was having with his wife.

"Yeah, the case is over. No, I'm fine. Really, Haley, I'm fine. Just a little beat up, you'll see. Yes. No, I met up with Dr. Reid. Yes, the guy I'm lecturing with at the Academy. Look. I've had a few and I don't think I'm able to drive. Dr. Reid offered to let me crash at his place. It'll save him coming all the way out to us and I won't wake you when I get in so late. Yes. Yes. I promise. Me too. See you tomorrow. Good night."

Aaron closed the phone and made his way over to Spencer. "Okay, I appear to have been given permission so I'm good to go."

Spencer simply nodded before unlocking the car and letting them both in. The ride was mostly in silence with Aaron constantly flipping through the preset stations with a look of disgust on his face.

"Is this really all you listen to?" he asked as he cycled through the gamut of classic music, opera and talk radio stations that Spencer normally listened to. "This is an afront to music lovers everywhere."

"Not everywhere. I love music and this is the kind of music I love."

"You should expand your horizons." Aaron quickly programmed in a classic rock station, the strains of guitar and bass began to fill the cab of the vehicle.

Spencer quickly pressed one of his presets, smiling as Beethoven once again took over. "My horizons are just fine. Besides, the rule is the driver picks the music and Shotgun shuts his cakehole."

Aaron laughed hard at that, harder than it probably deserved, but Spencer loved that laugh so he let it happen. "But I'm your guest so we should listen to this." It was rock again but it was lovely and haunting and Spencer decided to let it play. He was happy he did when Aaron softly began to sing along.

"And I'm free, free fallin, fallin. Now I'm free, free fallin, fallin."

It was soft and beautiful, almost hauntingly melodic, and the young genius found himself entranced with the magic of it. Aaron brought him out of his thoughts when he stopped singing and asked, "Isn't your building back that way?"

Spencer startled before looking around. He'd been so lost in the song and the voice singing it that he had gone on autopilot and was taking Aaron to his actual apartment, not the one for his cover.

"Sorry," he apologized quickly. "I guess I zoned out there for a minute. You have a great voice. 

Aaron snorted. "Sure. You must be tired."

"Must be," Spencer agreed half under his breath. He got them there safely, parked and up to the fourth floor. He was glad he always kept extra keys on him as he let them in. Aaron immediately made his way to the couch before flopping down on the soft cushions, kicking his shoes off his feet unceremoniously.

"Got anything to drink?"

"Yes," Spencer answer as he slipped into the kitchen. He came back out and handed the older profiler a bottle of water. "Drink that. Trust me, you'll thank me in the morning."

Aaron huffed lightly before twisting off the top and downing half the bottle in one go. When he was done, he dropped his head on the back of the couch.  

Spencer settled next to him barely a cushion away, quietly waiting for Aaron to talk.

"My father beat me for as long as I can remember," he started quietly, eyes firmly on the ceiling. "Hands, belts, wooden spoons. Didn't matter. I was too loud. I was too quiet. I didn't finish a chore I didn't know I was supposed to do. He never even needed a reason. It just happened. He never hit my mother but she was emotionally abused on a daily basis. For years I went to school and tried to ask for help. I told my friends, showed my teachers the bruises, but no one did anything. My father was a prominent attorney in the Bible Belt and everyone believed in 'Spare the rod, Spoil the child'. I must just be a bad kid.

"As I got older, it only got worse. I was a smart kid so they had me skip two grades. That made me a target at school and if I didn't get A's or end up at the top of my class, I'd get beat at home. Then Sean, my little brother was born. He was the golden child, his perfect little man. Sean was beautiful because he looked like mom - blond hair, blue eyes, just what he'd always wanted. I looked like him and he hated that. Around middle school I had a growth spurt and I think he was threatened by me becoming a man. He kept telling me I was fuck up, a disappointment, a bad son. He accused me of some awful things and the beatings got worse.

"Finally I'd had enough. I decided that if I was going to get in trouble for shit I didn't do, why not do it? By the time I was thirteen I was getting beaten on a daily basis. I was drinking and smoking. I'd started stealing pills from my mother - normal suburban housewife medication, you know? I started messing around - boys, girls, didn't matter. Halfway through my freshman year a girl I was seeing got pregnant. She was sixteen and both our families were furious. She got an abortion and I got beat so bad that I ended up in the hospital."

Aaron sighed before leaning forward, picking up the water bottle and drinking deeply to moisten his throat. He turned and looked at Spencer who was watching him intently with curious eyes. "What happened?"

"As soon as I was discharged from the hospital, I was shipped off to military school. They didn't want me to influence Sean. My first month was rough. I was angry and confrontational. Then one of my instructors got through to me - Mr. Goffmeyer. He convinced me that I was worth something, that I wasn't a mistake or a waste of space. It took time but I decided I was going to prove my father wrong. I looked forward to graduating and going to law school and making myself a better man than he had ever been. I never got the chance. He died at the beginning of my senior year. First he got cancer and then a heart attack caused by the trauma of the chemotherapy took him out. I was always a little upset that I didn't get the chance to watch him die. Is that bad of me?"

Spencer leaned forward, shifting so that their thighs were pressed close together. "No, Aaron," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "My father abandoned my mother and I when I was ten. I got back at him by getting degrees."

Aaron chuckled lightly at that. "When we profiled Perotta, I felt this kinship. I knew that was what started it, that abuse, and when he had to kill the woman, it caused him to make a mistake. I told him it's not surprising that some people who grow up like that turn out to be killers. Then I told him that some grow up to catch them. It made me think - I could have been him. In military school, I became obsessed with guns. I went into SWAT. I've killed people, shot them without any remorse or any emotion because I knew they were bad people. It would have so easy to be him."

"No, Aaron," Spencer whispered. "You couldn't have ended up like him. You're too good. I've seen it in you. Your father may have tried to beat it out of you but he couldn't. You're too strong for that."

"I wish I believed you."

"Maybe I'll have to make you."

They smiled at each other and Spencer felt a pull, wanting to lean in and catch those tempting lips with his own. He wanted reach his hand up and cup that bruised jaw, run his thumb over the split lip and take away all of that pain. The moment seemed frozen between them until Aaron yawned widely.

They both chuckled lightly.

"Let me get you set up in the guest room. You look like you need the rest."

"There's one other thing."

"What's that?" Spencer asked.

"Apparently Perotta had dealings with a group of hitmen calling themselves 'The Guild'. He wasn't necessarily a member but he was willing to give up information in exchange for some leniency with the courts. He claimed never to have met them, only had contact through a liason. White Collar Division first caught wind of this group last year and they grabbed the original liaison and put someone else in undercover. Perotta couldn't give us names - just code names. He was known as The Butcher, there is a close killer who prefers a knife known as The Assassin. There is also The Enforcer who takes people out long range and specializes in LEOs. He's easy to spot - three shots, one to the groin, one to the chest and one to the head for short range kills - single shot to the head for long range. The Bomber is pretty self-explanatory. And finally there's The Doctor. He kills with poison. They believe he was responsible for the death of a Senator just a few months ago."

Spencer did his best to school his features so that he didn't give anything away, not to a trained profiler like Aaron. He wasn't really worried, Perotta wouldn't know enough to give them anything of note, but if they had someone on the inside? That could be bad.  

"So, now you don't have to worry about just one serial killer hitman but a whole group of them?"

"Apparently."

They stared at each other for several long minutes before Spencer chuckled, "Sounds like something out of a tacky crime novel."

Aaron laughed back. "Right? If it weren't for Perotta, I'd say it was all just a load of crap. At least it's not my problem.I’ll let the Organized Crime and White Collar Divisions field this one."

"Exactly," Spencer said with a smile. "Let's get you to bed."

They stood and made their way down the hall. Once Spencer had the guest bed made, even though no one had ever slept in that bed, he turned to leave. Before he left the room, he was caught by his elbow. Turning slowly, he felt the soft stroking of Aaron's thumb on his arm, warm and inviting.

"Thank you, Spencer. I've never told that to anyone, not even Haley. I...thank you."

Spencer smiled, the warmth in his belly spreading throughout his body.

"You're welcome, Hotch."

 

Once he was sure that Aaron was asleep, he quickly made his way to his apartment to grab his messenger bag and a few items he would need for the morning. The last thing he needed now was for Aaron to have questions about the lack clothing or his bag at what was supposed to be his home. Slipping back inside, he paused at the guest bedroom, silently pushing the door open to look at the man asleep in his bed.

His hand tightened on the strap of his bag. He could do this. He would do this.

 

The next morning found Aaron standing in his kitchen wearing only boxers and a white undershirt. Spencer though that no one had the right to look that good dressed that way. Aaron turned and caught him staring.

"Good morning," Aaron greeted with a smirk. Aaron had assured him once that he wasn't flirting but that look? That was flirting. "Your coffee machine is impossible." 

Spencer laughed as he was startled out of his stupor. "It's not that hard," he teased, stepping over to the cabinet to pull out the supplies he needed. "You just want me to wait on you. I see how you are."

Aaron chuckled as he stepped away and Spencer turned to look at the bruises littering the other man's body. "These look worse today," he whispered. "Have you been to the doctor yet?"

"No, I haven't had a chance."

"You should go." His fingers reached up to trace the angry mark marring his neck. "I'm worried about you."

"Then I'll go."

"Good. Eggs?"

"Sure."

Spencer quickly made them some breakfast, lacing Aaron's coffee with the first of the three doses. As he watched the brew disappear, he planned his next attack.


	10. My Heart is Gold and My Hands are Cold

**Chapter Nine**

**My Heart is Gold and My Hands are Cold**

 Aaron missed the next Monday's lecture for a case. He'd sent Spencer a text and explained they had a case in a small town in Virginia but would let him when he was back in town. Spencer wondered how he was, how the solution was affecting him. This was the critical part of the plan, the make or break of the hit. He'd never tried such a detailed, prolonged kill before. It made him anxious.

Thursday's call to Haley was interesting. She was upset with Reid for taking her husband away overnight, actually asking if they'd slept together.

"I thought you said that wasn't possible," he responded, not even bothering to keep the smirk out of his voice.

"Shut up!" She snapped back. "Look, I'm ready to get this over with. How much longer?"

"We are in the final stages. When is he seeing the doctor?"

"He has an appointment on Thursday. His bruises still haven't gone away. He's scared."

"Good. Use that. Talk to him again about what is going to happen to you and the baby if he's gone."

"Jack."

"Excuse me?"

"The baby's name is Jack."

Spencer laughed. "You named the baby you're not actually pregnant with?"

"I thought it might help."

He nodded. "Actually, it might. Be ready for anything."

 

Aaron called that afternoon.

"Reid?" he asked, his voice soft and shaky.

"Hotch? What's wrong?"

"I just came from the doctor."

"Oh, did you want to talk about it?"

It was silent for a long time. Finally Aaron whispered, "Yeah. But not right now. I have to go get my blood drawn so I can't do lunch. Drink tonight? Same place?"

"Sure. I'll meet you there at five." 

The Star and Shamrock was fairly quiet when he got there so he slipped onto a bar seat and ordered a scotch and soda, settling in to wait. Aaron showed not too long after, easily settling next to him. He ordered a traditional shepherd's pie and whiskey neat, downing half almost immediate when the drink was set in front of him.

"What did the doctor say?" Spencer finally asked.

"She's worried. She noted the weakness, fatigue and weight loss. Once she examined me, she noticed I had several extramedullary plasmacytomas. Nasty purplish spots I'd been ignoring. She didn't say the word but I'm sure it's cancer. Just like my father. That's what the blood tests are for, just to know what kind."

"It could be a lot of things," Spencer whispered, leaning in close. "It could be anemia or a bone marrow disorder..."

"Or leukemia."

Spencer sighed. "There is that. I'm sorry, Aaron."

"It's not your fault," Aaron said, smiling at the younger man as the food was set before them.

Spencer worried at the sting of those four words.

 

The following Monday's lecture was tough. The second dose in his morning coffee was apparently already hitting him hard. Aaron had to keep stopping for water to hold his cough at bay and he was so tired that he needed a stool to sit on to keep from falling over. At one point of the lecture, he lost his place and Spencer had to step in and help take over. Afterward, Spencer walked with Aaron to his car 

"Are you sure you want to go into work, Aaron?" he asked, concern filling his voice. "You don't look well."

"I have to go, Spencer. It's not like the bad guys..."

Aaron's phone started ringing and he answered it quickly. Spencer could tell by the look on his face that it wasn't good. He closed the phone and Spencer waited.

"Aaron? What's wrong?"

"That was the doctor's office," he started, his voice shaking hard. "They want to see me. Today."

His knees gave way then and Spencer had to catch him.

"Aaron!" he shouted as fought to keep the older man upright. "It's okay. It'll be okay."

Aaron clung to him, holding him close as he struggled to catch his breath. It appeared he was having a panic attack. Slowly, Spencer lowered them to the ground in the parking garage and held him, speaking softly and helped get Aaron under control.

"Breathe, Aaron. I need you to breathe. Look at me. It's okay. You're going to be okay."

He kept repeating the lies until Aaron was once again in control of himself.

"I need to get home," he whispered. "I should go get Haley. She should be with me for this."

Spencer nodded and slowly extricated himself from Aaron, feeling bereft at no longer having the man in his arms. He pulled Aaron up so that he was standing by the car before pulling him into his arms.

"Go get your wife and go to the doctor. You're a strong man, Aaron Hotchner. Stronger than you know. Are you okay to drive?"

Aaron nodded. "Thank you, Spencer," he whispered, his voice cracking on the words. "I don't know what I would do without you."

 ** _Live_** , Spencer wanted to say, but he kept his word to himself. He could do this. He would do this.

  

His phone rang later that day and he wasn't shocked to see it was from Aaron. He quickly answered it, wondering what was next.

"Aaron," he greeted. "How did the meeting with the doc..."

"Is this Doctor Reid?" the familiar female voice drifted over the phone, obviously on speakerphone.

"Yes," he responded, confused. "This is Doctor Reid."

"This is Haley Hotchner, Aaron's wife. He asked me to call you. I hope this is alright."

"Of course it is. Did you need something? Is Aaron alright?"

"We just got back from Aaron's appointment with the doctor and he's asked if you could come over for dinner tonight."

Dinner. At the Hotchner's. This was getting surreal.

"Yeah, yeah I can do that. What time?"

He heard voices whispering before Haley responded, "Is six alright for you?"

"Sure. Get me the address and I'll be there."

Spencer sighed as he hung up the phone. This was bad. This was very bad.

  

He stopped off for a bottle of wine on the way to dinner because he was so early it would have looked suspicious. He didn't know what to expect or what to say. This was an experience he'd never had before - meeting a mark and the client all at the same time was something he never thought would happen. 

Haley smiled as she answered the door, looking lovely in a summer dress with her hair up. He wanted to punch her right in her pretty smile.

"You must be Dr. Reid," she greeted, a tightness around her eyes that betrayed her calm demeanor.

"And you must Haley. It is very nice to meet you finally."

"You brought wine? How thoughtful. Aaron is in his office. Up the stairs and first door on the right. You two should talk before we eat."

Spencer simply nodded, handing over the wine and slowly making his way up the stairs. Standing in the doorway to the small office, he knocked lightly, waiting for Aaron to turn around. When he did, Spencer wished he had never seen that look on Aaron's face, especially knowing that he was the one that put it there. With a small wave of his hand, Aaron invited him into the room.

Walking over to the small window seat, he settled down on the small cushion, waiting for the news. "What did the doctor say?" he finally asked.

Aaron sighed, dropping his head in his hands. "Multiple Myeloma," he declared. "It's not curable. Treatable yes, curable no. They can do chemotherapy and all kinds of treatments but there is no guarantee that any of it will do any good." He turned sad, haunted brown eyes to him then, begging for help, for understanding. "I'm dying, Spencer."

"Oh Aaron," he said, moving forward quickly, falling to his knees before the leather chair and gathering the larger man to his chest as Aaron began to weep. "I'm so sorry. What can I do?"

"I go in next week to talk to an oncologist but I'm not feeling very optimistic about my chances here. She was confused by my results and how quickly my symptoms have escalated. She said it was like something was mimicking the disease but she's sure this is what it is. I don't know what to do."

Spencer held him close and let the other man cry himself out. His knees ached with the strain of remaining on the floor so long but he didn't dare move, didn't want to break the spell that was between them here and now. He heard footfalls coming up the stairs but didn't dare to look, to see Haley standing there watching this moment between them. Finally, Aaron calmed and sighed, his breath warm and moist on Spencer's neck. They pulled away then, a joint movement as they moved back to an acceptable distance.

"So why am I here?" Spencer asked.

"Well, I wanted you to meet Haley," Aaron said with a smile. "We haven't had a chance to do that yet. But I also wanted to get your advice on some papers."

"Papers?"

"Yeah. I'm changing my will."

Dinner was a nice affair despite the tension between them. Spencer commented on the meal, complementing Haley for doing such a wonderful job. She waved it off and Spencer wondered if she'd had it catered since Aaron had already told him how terrible she was in the kitchen. The conversation was easy and simple, Haley talking about weather and current events, keeping away from anything that would be even closely work related for the two men. Spencer noted she was very adept at being able to say a lot about nothing. She'd have made the perfect politician's wife.

Still it was a nice evening and when he left he knew what was going to happen next. Aaron was going to change his will - they'd gone over it before dinner, it all made sense. Spencer would give him the last dose and collect his fee. And Haley would win.

As he drove home, Spencer wondered why it all felt so wrong.


	11. Cry Me a River

**Chapter Ten**

**Cry Me a River**

Aaron left the next day for a case in Tennessee. He'd called Spencer before they left and the younger man did his best to talk the older profiler out of going. He argued that Aaron was still sick and needed to take care of himself, even if it was just for his worried, pregnant wife.

Of course, the worried, pregnant wife was all a lie. He was honestly concerned for the other man. Aaron's strength was quickly leaving him with the amount of toxins coursing through his system and Spencer worried that the Unit Chief might do something drastic on the case.

He spent most of the week as a ball of anxiety, waiting for some sign, some word of what was happening.

When Thursday rolled around, he wondered if he should even bother calling Haley, but he needed to know if the paperwork was complete, if they were ready for the final part of the plan. The phone was answered almost immediately as Haley snapped, "What are you getting at?"

"Excuse me?" he asked, annoyance filling his voice.

"Don't play with me, Spencer," Haley spat. "I saw you two in the office. I saw him clinging to you. We needs you. He wants you for comfort. I can't believe it but he really wants you."

Spencer laughed then. "He doesn't want me. He is completely loyal to you, Haley. I've seduced plenty of marks and Aaron has never shown any indication that he would cheat on you. I've given him plenty of opportunity, trust me."

"He called your name."

Spencer froze.

"Excuse me."

"He called your name," she repeated. "That night. I figured it out. Remember how I asked you if you gave him something that made him horny? I realized he was all over me right after he had seen you. Then Monday night, he insisted on fucking me from behind, whatever, I didn't really care. But when he came, he whispered your name."

He didn't know what to say to that. It shouldn't have made him as happy as it did and yet, he couldn't stop the smile spreading over his face.

"This has nothing to do with what is between Aaron and I," he stated, his voice steady and calm. "You paid me to do a job and I warned you that I would get close, that something like this might happen. You paid me to do a job. This is me doing the job."

Haley huffed then, obviously put out. "It's not like it matters," she grumbled. "This whole thing is almost over. He signed the papers before he left. They've been notarized and the lawyer has them. Now it's all up to you."

It was all up to him. One more dose and this was all over. He wondered if it would be as easy as he once thought.

> Friday night found him in the center of a dilemma. He was waiting to hear from Aaron, he was anxious for it, but at the same time, he didn't want him to come home. He couldn't believe that he was only going to get to see Aaron one more time. One more time and he would be dead. Unable to eat, Spencer had left his apartment and walked down to one of his favorite little cafes, Petit Trois. He was sitting outside, enjoying the cool night air while he finished his coffee and beignets.

He nearly jumped out of his seat when his phone suddenly rang.

"Aaron," he greeted when he answered.

"Hey Spencer. I didn't wake you, did I?"

He couldn't help but smile. Aaron was always so sweet and considerate about Spencer's time. "Nope," he answered. "As a matter of fact, I'm sitting outside a lovely cafe enjoying this beautiful night and a delicious dessert. How's the case?"

"Over, actually. I was thinking about stopping by your place but since you're not there..."

"Why don't you come pick me up?" he asked, his voice a little loud and a little overexcited. "I didn't drive so you can bring me back to my place and we can talk, you know, if you want."

The line was silent for several long moments before Aaron sighed. "That would be great actually. If you give me the address, I'll be right there."

"It's a little cafe downtown called Petit Trois and if..."

"Petit Trois!" Aaron exclaimed. "I know that place. Haley loves their food." He paused for a moment before asking, "You walked all the way there? That's on the other side of the city?"

"Never said I walked," Spencer countered. "Hurry up or your beignets are going to get cold."

"Can't have that. See you soon."

As soon as he hung up, Spencer waved the waitress over and ordered a plate of puffy pastry clouds and coffee for Aaron. He couldn't help but smile when the dessert and his mark showed up at the same time. He took a moment to enjoy the view before him. Aaron looked amazing in his casual clothes. It was always different to see the older profiler out of his normal suit, but it was something Spencer could get used to. The crisp white button down, open at the neck with his silk tie loosened, was neatly tucked into the dark wash jeans. The outfit was all tied together with a thick, leather belt and matching loafers. In a word - he looked delicious.  

The profiler slipped into the seat next to him, right in front of the warm, steamy fried dough. "I'm so glad you weren't teasing about the beignets," Aaron said around a mouthful of pastry and powdered sugar.

"There are two things I will never tease about - coffee and dessert."

They both laughed, leaning back and enjoying the lovely night. After he'd given Aaron time to scarf down two beignets, Spencer asked, "So? Did the case end alright?"

"As well as could be expected," the other man sighed. "We found the boy before he died but it was close. It's just so awful when we have so many people in peril all of the time."

"You want to talk about it?"

Aaron looked around. Despite it being late, there were still several people seated around them. "Not here. Maybe when we get back to your place."

Spencer nodded. His place. He was so very unsure if he even wanted that.

"How's the team handling things?"

"I really just don't know," he started, scratching the back of his neck and taking a long sip of his coffee. "It's like there is something missing from the team. Morgan is doing a great job as Lead Profiler, not that I would expect anything different. He's brilliant and determined. He's very good at what he does. It's too bad you didn't have him as your instructor for hand-to-hand. He'd have gotten you to pass, no problem. Andi Swan is brilliant but she won't be with us for long. I'm sure that they are grooming her to take over the Sex Crimes Unit. She'll be brilliant at it but we will miss her. We need that female input so I'll need to actively recruit to replace her.

"JJ is doing great as media liaison. I honestly don't know what I'd do without her. Anderson has really stepped up and is making some great contributions. Penelope is Penelope. Brilliant, funny and completely exasperating. But she's the light this unit needs in all the darkness.

"The hardest part has been replacing Gideon. He was integral to everything we did. After Bale, we all knew he wasn't himself. We knew about the PTSD diagnosis but none of us had any idea that he would ever actually take his own life, especially not the way he did. We've had Rossi and Ryan come back and do some consults with us but we need that experience all the time. We need...something. I just wish I knew what."

Spencer nodded, listening intently. "The unit is a team that rely on each other until you become greater than the sum of your parts. It's a family and to have a balance means it will function optimally. It makes sense."

They had finished the food and drink and collectively decided it was time to leave. Spencer had already paid, much to Aaron's dismay, so they left to find Aaron's car. Once they were on their way, Aaron said, "I don't know if you heard or not, but that guy that tried to strangle me, Perotta, he's dead."

"What?" Spencer nearly shouted. "What happened?"

"He had decided to turn State's evidence and they were getting ready to transport him to a more secure facility. As soon as he stepped outside, a sniper took him out. Whoever did it is good too. One shot - right between the eyes. The Organized Crime Unit thinks it was the Boss of the syndicate that took him out."

Spencer wanted to correct him. It wasn't the Boss Man that took out Perotta. It was Elle, he was sure of it.

"They figure there is a leak in the Bureau or it was someone within the Unit on the take. It was too good a shot for the person not to be either military trained or Law Enforcement."

Spencer knew they'd never find her, never really know the truth.

They reached the building quickly and Spencer was surprised when Aaron stood so close behind him as he unlocked his door. Letting them in, Aaron headed straight for the kitchen.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Spencer asked as he followed the other man around this place he pretended to be his home.

"I'm good," Aaron answered as plopped down at the kitchen table.

Spencer pulled out two cups anyway, preparing tea for them both. Without turning around, he asked, "So what is bothering you, Aaron?"

He heard the other man sigh hard. He turned around and tried to be strong and reassuring, even as he was preparing the final dose that would end their relationship.

"This case hit close to home for me."

"That seems to be happening a lot lately."

Aaron chuckled then. "That's very true. And it can stop at any time." After he finished laughing, he took a moment to collect himself and catch his breath. "The Unsub was mentally ill and the reason why he was able to get away with what he did for so long was because his mother wanted to save face. She couldn't admit that her son was different, that anything was wrong with him. I figured out what was happening because I recognized my own mother in her. She was always ashamed of me just like this woman was ashamed of her own son. It's a miracle that I'm the way I am. How was I so lucky? Why am I not completely out of my mind? I just...I just wonder who I am anymore."

Spencer stepped closer to the table, standing next to Aaron's chair, so close that he could feel the body heat off the other man. Slowly, he reached out and grabbed the other man's face in his hands. He turned Aaron's face to meet his own.

"I know what it's like to worry about family and how they affect you. My mother is a paranoid schizophrenic. I've lived most of my life afraid that I will be too. But I am not my mother any more than you are yours. There is one thing I do know. You are Aaron Hotchner. Brilliant profiler, marksman, devoted husband and soon to be great father. Don't doubt yourself, Aaron. You're the best person I know."

Aaron stared at him, something just a little wild and a little needy in his eyes. He could feel the tension between them like a living thing.

"No. I'm not."

Just then, the kettle began to whistle and the moment was broken. Spencer let go of Aaron and was surprised to see a look of disappointment slip over the other man's face. He quickly prepared the tea, staring intently as the contents of the small vial slid down into Aaron's cup. Once he finished this cup, within twelve hours, he'd be dead, this final dose activating all the toxins currently hiding within his body. Spencer handed the cup over, taking a sip of his own.

"Thanks." Aaron wrapped his hands around the small teacup, comforting himself in its warmth. "You know, Spencer. I don't know what I'd do without you. You're the only person I've even been able to talk to like this. I haven't even told Haley half the stuff I tell you. You...you're my best friend. That sounds lame, doesn't it?"

Spencer shook his head. It didn't sound lame. It sounded like the best thing in the world. It sounded like all he ever wanted. He watched in horror as Aaron lifted the cup to his lips, ready to take a drink. Before he could even think about it, he darted forward and slapped the cup out of Aaron's hand, sending it flying across the room only to shatter against the wall.

"Spencer, what..?" Aaron was able to get out before the young man landed on him, straddling his lap. Spencer wrapped his arms around the older man's neck, clinging to him as he pressed their lips together. He kissed Aaron like he'd wanted to from the moment they'd met, pouring every bit of want and need and desire into that kiss. He expected Aaron to be shocked or appalled. He expected Aaron to push him away. What he didn't expect was for Aaron to give back as good as he got, kissing and nibbling at Spencer's lips, licking at the seam and demanding entrance into the younger man's mouth. His hands clung to Spencer's back, pulling the shirt tails from his pants, desperate to get to skin and flesh. His fingers roamed and his fingernails scratched and it took everything inside Spencer to keep from frantically rutting against the man beneath him. All he cared about was touching and tasting and learning every bit of Aaron while he had time.

Time.

"Shit," Spencer whispered as he tried to pull away. Aaron, however had another agenda and reached down to cup Spencer's ass, squeezing the tempting round flesh. "Aaron," he tried again as took Aaron's face in his hands again. "Aaron. Wait. Please."

The older man stopped and pressed his forehead to Spencer's own. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you don't want this, Spencer but..."

"I want this, Aaron. Oh god I want this. But we have to go. We have to go now."

"Go?" Aaron asked. "Go where?"

Spencer quickly crawled out of his lap. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"Really trust me?"

"With my life."

Turning to the cupboard, Spencer reached up and pulled out the small cookie jar from the top shelf - the one shaped like the Tardis. He reached inside grabbing the vial he never thought he'd use.

"Cookies?" Aaron asked.

Spencer walked up to him and thrust the vial out toward him. "Drink this," he commanded.

"What?"

"Just drink it!" he shouted. He watched intently as Aaron took the lid off the vial and quickly swallowed down the contents. Once he was sure the other man had drank it all, he held out his hand. "Cellphone."

Dutifully, Aaron handed over his phone. Spencer quickly popped open the back, removing the battery and SIM card before walking over to the cupboard that held his cookie jar and pulled out a small metal Star Trek lunch box. He quickly dumped all the pieces into the box before doing the same with his own phone. Turning to Aaron, he held up the box and explained, "Faraday cage."

Aaron just sat and stared.

He pulled out two disposable cellphones, tossing one to Aaron, who caught it easily.

"We have to go," he said, suddenly worried. He knew it could come to this, knew that someday he might have to run. He didn't think it would be today.

"Go where?" Aaron asked.

"Trust me and I'll explain on the way."

Aaron simply nodded and followed him out of the apartment.


	12. Here Is Something You Can't Understand

**Chapter Eleven**

**Here is Something You Can’t Understand**

Spencer wanted to take his own car, he was more comfortable that way, but decided against it at the last minute. Elle would know to look for it and, for all he knew, she could have put a tracker in it. He talked Aaron out of driving but only just. He didn't want the other man to get distracted by what he had to tell him. They were barely on the road when he turned off the radio.

"Aaron, I need you listen to me and not interrupt, please. Can you do that?"

"Spencer, what is..?"

"Please, Aaron. I need you to listen."

Aaron sighed and closed his eyes, letting his head drop back against the headrest. "Okay. I'm listening."

He took a deep breath. This was going to be bad.

"I'm The Doctor."

Aaron gasped and started to speak. Spencer stopped him.

"You said you'd listen." When Aaron fell silent, he continued. "I started killing people in college. It started out just as a thought, a probability. When you're a twelve year old protégé in a Las Vegas high school, you get picked on alot. I wondered. Then I studied. And then I experimented. My first couple of kills were sloppy, messy. I was too emotional, getting back at the bullies who had tortured me. But then I was just a child. A child who was abandoned by a father who couldn't deal with a crazy wife and a weird kid. But no one suspected a teen genius could be capable of the murder of two of his classmates.

"After that, I spent a lot of time planning and studying. I didn't kill anyone for a long time, but I learned how to do it better, cleaner, how to do it and never get caught. When I turned eighteen, I had to send my mom to an institution, Bennington Sanitarium. I'd been able to hide what was happening for years but I couldn't leave her like I had been while I went to school, not anymore. She was only getting worse. The day after I sent her away, I killed my father. I did it in such a way that it looked like a natural death. I was approached at his funeral. She called herself Elle and she said she knew what I'd done. She offered me a job."

Spencer took a deep breath, not wanting to continue but knowing he needed to get this out. Aaron deserved to know the whole truth.

"She would contact me at school maybe once or twice a year, asking me to kill someone and make it look like a natural death. She paid me well - well enough that I never had to worry about paying for my mom's care. I didn't have to worry about school but I always worried about mom. I came up with my own personal code that I would function by - no women, no kids. Elle respected that even if she didn't go by it herself. She was part of a group called "The Guild" - a syndicate of hitmen that was run by a powerful leader that I only knew as The Boss Man. He gave the orders to Elle, Elle gave them to me. I got to continue my education and life seemed easy. I even enjoyed it.

"Then Jason showed up. He told me about the FBI and the BAU and profiling. I loved the idea of using science and logic to catch the worst criminals out there, to learn more about the human mind. I followed him to Quantico as soon as I obtained my third PhD. He said he could get me through the Academy with little to no problem, getting me past the physical and firearm requirements. Apparently he didn't clear that with anyone higher than himself because they delayed my entry into the FBI. You were right, you know. I was supposed to be in your Unit. We would have been colleagues. What I didn't know was that Jason had another way to get me in.

"After I was told that I wouldn't be given an automatic pass on the physical and firearms requirements, Jason asked me to come to his cabin so we could discuss what other options I had. I never had any reason to doubt him. He said he would tell the Director to let me in or he would leave the FBI. The catch was that I had to give myself to him in any way he wanted. I was shocked. I told him no. He didn't like that answer."

Aaron gasped and Spencer fought hard not to look at him. He needed to get this out now and looking at Aaron would keep him from finishing.

"He held me down on the kitchen table. I'd never taken any hand-to-hand training because he said I didn't need it. I couldn't fight him off, not then. I thought he wanted to help me but he just wanted to use me - for my mind and my body. It seemed like it went on for hours. I cried and he never stopped. The next day, he acted like nothing had happened, like he hadn't raped me. He took me back the FBI to talk to the director and I told them that I had changed my mind, that I had a better offer and wouldn't be joining the BAU. I spent a year trying to decide what to do next."

When he fell silent, Aaron whispered, "You killed him."

Spencer laughed.

"Of course I killed him. I couldn't let him do that again, do that to someone else. It was so easy to make it look like a suicide, so easy to lure him back to his cabin. Too easy. He was already suffering from PTSD from Bale. No one even questioned it except for you." He smiled. "I'm not a good person, Aaron."

“You..." Aaron started. "You were going to kill me."

"No," he answered, his voice quiet as he pulled into the parking garage beneath the building. "I've been killing you all along."


	13. Back Against the Wall

**Chapter Twelve**

**Back Against the Wall  **

Spencer stopped the car and turned to look at the shocked man sitting next to him.

"I'll explain, Aaron. I promise I'll explain everything but right now we need to get inside. You go grab your go-bag when I disable the GPS in the car."

He was surprised when the other man followed his command and went back to get his bag from the trunk. Spencer quickly reached under the dash and disconnected the cables that would make others able to track them. He needed them to be invisible for as long as possible. Once he jumped out of the vehicle, he walked over to Aaron, placing a firm hand in the small of his back before directing him toward the elevator.

"Are you sure this thing is safe?" Aaron asked as Spencer pulled up the rickety looking gate. They both stepped inside the ancient elevator.

"Positive," Spencer replied as he quickly pressed several buttons in a row. “I designed it. You forget - I have a degree in Engineering.” Once the correct sequence was entered, the elevator began its ascent. They remained silent until it stopped and Spencer once again lifted the gate. Across the hall was a large, sturdy looking door covered in graffiti. The whole building looked run down and in complete disrepair. He knew Aaron wanted to ask but was probably still in shock over Spencer's revelation. Popping open a panel next to the door, Spencer quickly keyed in another code before placing his thumb over the print reader. The door unlocked and Spencer pulled it open and quickly ushered Aaron inside.

As he turned to secure the door, Spencer heard Aaron whisper, "What the fuck have I gotten myself into?"

He turned then and smiled. "Welcome to how the other half live."

Aaron turned then and, without any warning, hit Spencer with a wicked right hook.

"Fuck!" he complained as he fought to shake off the effects of the punch. Aaron had a hell of a right hook. When he looked back at his attacker, he was sure that the other man was done, like all the fight had left him with that one punch. His shoulders were slumped and the look on his face was one of utter defeat. Spencer stepped forward, longing to comfort the other man, but Aaron quickly stepped away, clearly not wanting any comfort from him.

"God, Aaron. I am so sorry for all of this."

"What is this place?" he asked, his face a mask of confusion as he looked around himself at the extravagant flat around them.

"Every good hitman has a safehouse," Spencer explained as he walked deeper into the flat. "A place that they can retreat to if everything goes to hell. This is mine. No one knows about it. Not Elle, not our tech guy, no one. I own the whole building and had it disguised so that people wouldn't come sniffing around or guess that I'd be here. We can hide out here for a while but not for too long. They'll be looking for us."

"They?!" Aaron yelled, his voice higher and louder than Spencer had ever heard it. "Who's they and why the fuck are they looking for us?! I need answers Spencer and I need them now!"

"Sit." He motioned to one of the comfy looking chairs in a small seating area. Aaron simply continued to stand and crossed his arms over this chest in defiance. "Fine. About six months ago, Elle called me with a new job. The client was a woman looking to have her husband eliminated. He was in the FBI so I asked why I was getting this client since Elle specializes in LEOs. She had a special request. He needed to die slowly so she could get him to change their prenuptial agreement. She was less than happy that she might only end up with his life insurance policy instead of his family fortune. She asked me to drag it out, make it last and make it hurt. Once I got the ten percent down, I made contact with the mark."

He knew that Aaron would know, would understand, but he just wouldn't believe it.

"No," Aaron whispered. "No. You're lying."

Spencer walked past him and pulled a small device from one of the bookshelves. He walked over to Aaron and set it on the small game table before him.

"I recorded all of my conversations with Haley. I do it with all my clients so that if something happens, I have leverage later." He handed Aaron the recorder and pointed out the folder with all of the audio recordings. "I'll leave you to it."

He walked away then, not wanting to overwhelm the man with his presence. He went into the small kitchen area and started taking inventory of the items within to determine how long they could stay before they were forced to go out in public. In all honesty, he was scared. As soon as Elle found out he'd taken Aaron and run, she'd be after them both.

Figuring they would be okay for at least a few days, he slipped in the office area. He needed to take stock of his weapon's cache. They needed to protect themselves and he was determined to take care of Aaron in any way he could. He kept an ear out, making sure the other man was alright. Aaron listened to the recordings diligently, though Spencer expected nothing less. He heard the occasional gasp or sob, but other than that, Aaron remained silent throughout. Once he reached the end, he started over again. All during the second listen, he would stop, rewind and restart the tracks, either looking for something or memorizing certain sections, which ones, Spencer wasn't sure. He finally stopped and turned the small device off.

Spencer stepped up behind him, keeping a short distance away from the back of the couch. He was just about to ask if Aaron was okay when the older man whispered, "She's right, you know?"

"Right about what?"

"I called your name that night." Aaron refused to turn to look at him, declaring the words directly out into the flat as if saying them to Spencer's face was too much. "I thought I whispered it, that I was quiet enough that she didn't hear me, but I did. From the moment we met, I wanted you and it made me feel awful. I hated that I wanted you and the only way I could fuck my wife was to think about you. Does that make me a bad man?"

"No, Aaron," Spencer replied, taking a single step forward. "You're not a bad man. I am. I'm the murderer. I'm the one who did all of this."

"I'm sorry Spencer."

As soon as he heard the words and recognized the motion, he knew he had made a mistake when he let Aaron inside his place. He forgot to make the profiler disarm. Aaron wasn't wearing his sidearm but Spencer never thought about the ankle holster. Just as Aaron turned around to point the glock at him, the young genius darted forward, grabbing the strong wrist and rolling away, quickly relieving the agent of his firearm. He released the magazine and ejected the round from the chamber before tossing the weapon to the side.

Aaron nearly growled at him as he stood and turned to look at Spencer. "You were killing me. All this time, I thought you were my friend but I was just a paycheck."

Spencer stood frozen to the spot as he watched Hotch slowly loosen and unknot the tie from around his neck before ripping the silk from his collar and tossing it across the room. Then he unbuttoned his cuffs, rolling up his sleeves before he squared off, itching for a fight.  

"You weren't just a paycheck," Spencer tried to explain, immediately taking up a defensive stance, standing up to the other man. "At first, you seemed like a challenge but the more I got to know you, the harder all of this became. I knew I was in trouble when I realized that I was falling in love with you."

"Shut up!" Aaron shouted as he darted forward, taking a swing at Spencer's jaw. He was ready for it this time and easily ducked before Aaron could make contact. The older man stepped in closer then, faster than Spencer thought was possible, and got in two hard blows to his lower rib cage. What Aaron didn't know was that although Spencer was unable to pass hand-to-hand combat when he was in the Academy, he had attacked his weakness like he did with everything else in his life - he studied, he learned, he conquered. Aaron might have had muscle mass on him, but Spencer had learned how to use that to his advantage. He stepped even closer before dropping down, wrapping his arms around Aaron's waist and sweeping his legs out from under him. They went down in heap with Spencer on top. Three hard punches to the solar plexus had Aaron curling into himself for a moment, trying to catch his breath. He pinned the older man's arms to the floor by his wrists, hoping to end this quickly.

"Aaron! Just listen to me!"

"Fuck you!" Aaron kicked up with his feet throwing the lighter man up and over his head. Spencer landed hard against one of the kitchen chairs, sending it skidding across the hardwood floor and into the wall. Aaron quickly got up and kicked Spencer in the ribs three times. He groaned as the bones creaked and protested but didn't quite give way. Reaching over, he grabbed the closest chair before swinging it hard at the other man. The chair creaked as it made contact and Aaron went down again. Just as Spencer moved to stand, Aaron jumped up and charged at him, his shoulder ramming into his diaphragm and slamming him into the wall once, twice, three times. Spencer thrust his elbows down against the strong back, trying to get Aaron to put him down but he kept forcing him against the wall until the drywall began to give way. Spencer brought his feet up and pushed against the wall causing them both to tumble to the floor again.

Aaron reached back and punched Spencer right across his right temple. The blow rattled him and, as he shook his head to clear it, he saw Aaron darting for his weapon.

"Shit!" Spencer muttered as he stumbled over to the game table, throwing open the small drawer underneath and pulling out of the rapid infuser he kept hidden within. It was filled with potassium chloride - enough to stop the heart of a man twice Aaron's size. As he turned back around, Aaron was right there. He grabbed the older man by the collar of his shirt and pulled hard. They tumbled over the couch, crashing into the game table, easily breaking it beneath them. Spencer groaned as the broken pieces of wood dug into his back but he quickly brought up his hand, pressing the needle against Aaron's neck. He was less than surprised to feel the muzzle of the glock pressed to his temple.

They seemed frozen, staring into each other's eyes, panting hard with exertion. They stayed that way so long, Spencer began to wonder if this was how he was going to die.

"Fuck," Aaron cursed right before he darted down, pressing his lips to Spencer's in a bruising, punishing kiss. He heard the clatter of the gun being tossed away just before strong fingers tangled in his hair, pulling and tugging hard as Aaron sought entrance into his mouth. Spencer tossed the infuser to the side and reached up to pull the other man close, his fingers scrambling against the crisp, white cotton.

Aaron broke away then, breathing hard and staring down into Spencer's hazel eyes. He waited, trying to figure out what the older man was thinking. Then, Aaron darted down to attack his neck, licking and biting and sucking just on this side of too hard. Spencer gasped and groaned, his back arching at the delicious torture.

"Aaron," he groaned, unsure if he was asking the other man to stop or give him more. "Please."

"Please what, baby?"

That voice, low and husky with lust and residual anger, did wicked things to Spencer as he thrust his hips up, seeking the friction he so desired. He whined low in his throat, surprised at the sounds he was making. He'd never made any noises like this before and was surprised to discover he was completely unable to form words.

Aaron chuckled then - a light, wicked thing.

"I finally found a way to shut you up."

"Fuck you, Hotch," he growled right before he tangled their legs together, rolling them and straddling Aaron's hips. Smirking down at the man beneath him, he brought his hands to the front of his shirt, gripping the seams and pulling hard, scattering buttons everywhere.

"Dammit, Spencer. I liked that shirt."

"It looked new. Did you buy that shirt just for me?" He sat back, scraping his nails down the well defined chest revealed to him. "How thoughtful of you. I promise I'll buy you a new one."

Aaron groaned, his eyes rolling back as he arched into the rough treatment. The older man suddenly sat up and began to tear at Spencer's pants. First he whipped the belt from the loops. Spencer yelped when the end curled around his forearm and slapped him, sure to leave a small welt on the skin. Tossing the leather to the side, Aaron began to work on the fastenings of his trousers. Once he had room, he thrust his hand down the front Spencer's pants, warm, calloused fingers easily wrapping around his hot, full erection. Spencer groaned, his head dropping back as Aaron slowly began to jack him. Aaron pulled his hand out and quickly licked his palm before reaching back inside, stroking the man roughly and slowly.

"Christ, Aaron," he moaned, trying his best to arch up, to get more but it was nearly impossible in their current position.

In an impressive feat, the agent pulled his hand from the doctor's pants, reaching down before he stood, gripping beneath Spencer's lean thighs. Spencer wrapped his legs around Aaron's own trim waist. It only took three steps before he was slamming Spencer's back against the wall. Palming the firm ass, he ground their cocks together, teasing them both with a promise of more.

Spencer let this go for a few moments. It was rough and painful and passionate and insanely erotic.

“Strip me," he growled, staring in wild, lust-blown chocolate eyes. Aaron dropped his legs before kneeling down, pulling hard on Spencer's trousers and jerking them off his legs along with his shoes and socks while Spencer stripped off his sweater and shirts. His cock stood out, harder than he'd ever known it to be, right in front of Aaron's face. The older man locked eyes with him before snaking out his tongue and licking around the head, tasting the pearl of liquid gathering there. "Oh Christ."

Aaron repeated the motion before taking just the head in his mouth sucking lightly with just a hint of teeth - enough to hurt, enough to tease. He reached down and gripped the short, raven locks tightly, forcing the tempting mouth away from his cock.

"Are you going to play around all day or are you going to fuck me?"

Aaron stood then, gripping his thighs and lifting him up once again. "Oh. I am going to fuck you, Spencer, just like we've both been dreaming of."

He thrust his denim covered erection against Spencer's naked one and the young man flinched in pain at the harsh treatment. He tried to arch back, to get away. It was too much and not enough and he didn't know which way to move. Finally, he decided he'd had enough. Pushing against the wall, he tried to disengage from the older man but Aaron was not so easily moved. Aaron pressed in hard, attaching his teeth to the skin of Spencer's neck once again.

The younger man cried out at the pleasure/pain that shot through his body. He wanted to get away and he wanted more. "Lube," he moaned, pointing to the shelf closest to them.

Moving slowly, Aaron leaned over, his fingertips reached and searching blindly while he continued to suck an impressive mark on Spencer's tender flesh. His fingers curled around the small tube and he gripped it tight in his palm.  He pulled away then, staring into Spencer's eyes as he handed him the tube. While Spencer quickly opened the bottle, Aaron tore open his own pants, belt buckle clinking and zipper lowered loudly before he jerked them down just enough for his cock to pop free.

Spencer tipped the bottle, pouring a generous amount of slick into Aaron's upturned palm. The older man reached beneath him and Spencer shivered as he felt the slick fingers teasing at his crack. Up and down those fingers went, slicking him up, making him arch, trying to get them where he so desperately wanted them. Aaron teased him, smirking at him as they shared their breath.

"Aaron," he complained.

"What do you say, Baby?"

Spencer sighed and whimpered, arching once more before quietly begging, "Please?"

"That's my good boy," Aaron practically purred before slipping a single finger inside. Spencer gasped at the sudden intrusion when that digit ended up knuckle-deep inside him, seeking, searching, wiggling in his depths. It moved around before retreating and thrusting back inside. One finger became two and Spencer arched and rolled with invasion.

Unable to wait any longer, Spencer leaned forward, biting Aaron's ear - hard. "Fuck. Me." he commanded.

"Pushy, aren't we, Little One?" Aaron teased, even though he quickly complied, pulling his fingers free before using the remainder of the lube to slick up his own cock.

"Don't call me that," Spencer growled before Aaron quickly lifted him up and dropped him down on the head of his cock. He gasped then, the feeling of that breach, that stretch. It had been a while since he had bottomed but he wanted this and he wanted more. Tightening his arms around older man's shoulders, he raised himself up before dropping further down onto that tempting cock.

Aaron let Spencer work himself onto his cock until he couldn't take it any longer and he pressed the younger man even further against the wall before pulling back and slamming in, hard and deep. Spencer cried out at the sensation, something wild and primal. Once he was in, he couldn't seem to stop. Aaron's hips seemed to move of their own volition, snapping forward before pulling back, only to do it all over again.

Spencer's fingers reached beneath the cotton shirt, finding the sweaty skin of the strong shoulder before digging his fingernails in and raking the skin. He reveled in the gasps and curses he was able to pull from his lover's lips. Spencer groaned and gasped. It was good, too good. He was so close to his end.

"Aaron," he whispered. It was all he needed to say. Bracing the younger man against the wall by his shoulders, Aaron reached up with his still slick hand and gripped Spencer's cock. He stroked him in perfect counterpoint to his own thrusts which were becoming increasingly erratic. Spencer arched and bucked and finally it was the perfect combination of too much and just enough and he came between their bodies, pulsing hard as he called Aaron's name.

Aaron pounded him into the wall, chasing his end. Spencer's back and legs began to ache and he fought back, trying to get Aaron there.

"Spencer," he cried as he stilled, pressed deep inside. Spencer felt the prick inside him swell and pulse and shuddered at the delicious feeling, as if he were experiencing the orgasm himself.

As soon as the waves of pleasure finished pulsing through him, Aaron seemed to lose all of his strength. His knees buckled and he tried, unsuccessfully, to gently lower them to the floor. Spencer hissed as his back was scraped against the wall until they ended in a heap on the floor.

He knew he shouldn't be shocked, but he was, when Aaron dropped his forehead to Spencer's shoulder and began to sob.    


	14. The Best of You

**Chapter Thirteen**

**The Best of You**

Spencer held the weeping man. Aaron poured out all his pain, all the disbelief, all the hurt as the younger man stroking his back and tucked his head onto his shoulder. Finally, Aaron seemed to cry himself out and Spencer slowly laid him down on the floor, draping himself over the strong chest as if he were keeping him safe, protecting him.

"Spencer?"

"Hmm?"

"That last cup of tea you gave me."

“Yeah?"

"That would have killed me, wouldn't it?"

Spencer sighed, crossing his hands on the older man's chest and propping his chin atop them to stare into puffy, brown eyes.

"Yes," he admitted honestly. "You would have been dead within twelve hours. But I couldn't do it. That vial I gave you? It was the antidote. I've never done that before."

"Then why this time? Why me?"

Spencer sighed. "I already told you. I just couldn't do it. Somehow, I just knew that I wasn't going to be able to finish this."

They stared at each other, silently waiting for the other to say more.

"Now what happens, Spencer? Why are we here?"

Spencer sighed. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Once Elle discovers that I haven't finished the hit and you are still alive, she'll come after us," Spencer explained quietly. "It won't matter where we go or what we do. She's relentless, Hotch. I promise you, we have to run."

"Spencer, I have a life here - friends, a job I love. I can't just run away."

"It's your life we're talking about here, Aaron. She will do everything in her power to kill you. Please."

He sighed. "Do we have to decide right now? I'm exhausted from the case and everything else. Can we sleep on it?"

Spencer nodded.

"And please tell me you have a bed. I'm not sleeping here on your floor."

Chuckling, Spencer stood, holding out a hand to help the prone man stand. "I have a bed. It's even big enough to share. But first, does Haley know you're back from the case yet?"

"Not yet. I got a hold of you first. I never even called her when we landed. Why?"

"We can't let her think that anything is wrong. She might alert Elle and any extra time we can get will be good. You should call her."

"Call Haley?!" Aaron nearly shouted. "I can't talk to her and pretend that everything is alright. I can't!"

Spencer stepped forward, grabbing his lover's face in his hands and forcing the chocolate eyes to focus on him. "You have to, Aaron. Just this once, this one last time. She's been doing it to you all of this time. Now it's your turn."

"Fine," he grumbled as he turned away, pulling his cell phone from his pocket.

"I'll get the bed ready. You make that call. Just tell her that you went out after the plane landed and are too drunk to drive home. You're staying the night with me and we are going to work on the lecture series. We might be busy all weekend. And remember, make it convincing."

Spencer had opened the lunch box and pulled out Aaron's phone. He quickly reassembled it and powered it on. As soon as the device was on, he went to the settings and turned off the location services. Handing the phone over, he placed a gentle kiss to Aaron's lips. "You can do this."

Aaron nodded before pressing the button to call his wife. Spencer was wondering how hard all of this was going to be. He slipped into the bathroom to clean up quickly before moving over to change the sheets and pull out some extra pillows. He was pulling on some sleep pants when he heard Aaron end the call.

"What did she say?"

"Have a great time." Aaron shook his head sadly. "She doesn't even care. She honestly doesn't care."

"I'm so sorry." Spencer walked over and slowly began to strip Aaron out of his clothes. He wished it could be more romantic, sexier, but right now they needed to sleep before they decided what to do with the rest of their lives. Once Aaron was down to just his boxers, he directed the older man to the bed, letting him slide between the fresh sheets. He turned off the lights before stepping around to slip into the bed on the other side, settling in, tucked into Aaron's side. He rested his head on the older man's shoulder.

"Good night, Spencer," Aaron whispered out into the night.

"Good night, Aaron."

Spencer woke several hours later. It had honestly been some of the best rest of his life. He was exhausted from the emotional toil and the physical exertion of the fight and then the sex - the sex. Spencer shivered just thinking about it. Haley had called Aaron plain, vanilla, boring. She obviously didn't know what she was missing.

He knew he should get up, get out of this bed. He should go make coffee and breakfast for the both of them and get started on the day. There was so much to do, so many things he had to get done before Elle found out about them. But he couldn't seem to pull himself away from the man still holding him tight.

He wanted to give Aaron something - give him more than he'd ever had before. Deciding he could spare a few moments, Spencer slowly began to explore the body beneath his fingertips. He'd not had the chance to see much of Aaron's body last night. The older man had remained essentially clothed during their fucking and Spencer didn't take the time to study him as he undressed him, but now? Now he would look his fill.

Slowly, he pulled back the sheet to expose the man to his gaze. Spencer smirked. He knew Aaron was hiding a delicious body beneath all those glorious suits. His chest, his arms, his abs - they were all strong and well-defined and tanned like he spent time in the sun. His mouth nearly watered thinking about all that flesh shining in the sun. His fingertips followed the path of his gaze, gently touching and mapping a trail his tongue longed to trace.

But he had a much better idea.

Working hard not to stir the older man, Spencer gently extricated himself from Aaron's hold before slowly moving down until he was settled down near his crotch. Inch by torturous inch, he worked the boxers first over his hips and past his buttocks before sliding the material off his legs. A quick sniff confirmed that Aaron had cleaned up well before sliding into bed, so Spencer slowly snaked out his tongue to lick a long stripe up the half hard cock.

A soft moan and a squirm was the only response. Spencer was sure that the profiler wasn't quite ready to wake yet. If Spencer was this tired, Aaron had to have completely exhausted. He licked again, smiling at the sharp inhalation from Aaron. He played with him for a while, licking and then blowing cool air on the responsive flesh. That beautiful prick before him began to swell and grow and Spencer's mouth practically watered in anticipation.

Finally, he decided he couldn't wait any longer, so he leaned up and took the head in his mouth. He moaned then, a long, drawn out thing, before dipping his head down, taking even more. He knew the moment Aaron woke. Strong fingers curled in his hair, gripping gently and cradling his head. Rough fingertips brushed his cheeks, his jaw and when he looked up, he saw fear and longing waring in the deep brown depths staring at him.

"Are you real?" Aaron whispered, his normally rich voice deepened with sleep. "Please tell me I'm not dreaming."

Spencer pulled off then before sticking his finger in his mouth, slicking it up with his spit. He brought the digit down, circling Aaron's hole.

"Does this feel like a dream to you?" he asked as he slowly pressed inside, taking the now dripping cock back into his mouth.

His answer was simply a long, low moan. He chuckled lightly, low in his throat. The vibrations obviously setting off something around Aaron's cock as the man bucked his hips, thrusting lightly into Spencer's mouth. He played with the older man, licking and sucking, teasing and probing. Aaron cursed and bucked again as Spencer's long, lean digit found the tempting spot deep inside.

Spencer pulled off then, hollowing his cheeks as he retreated.

"Hotch," he whispered, his voice rough from the exertion and abuse he'd put his throat through. "What do you want?"

"What?" the older man asked, unsure how to answer.

"What do you want?" Spencer repeated, clearly enunciating each word. "I want you to tell me."

"What I want, I'm not going to get."

"Aaron..?"

He waited.

"I...I don't know how. Haley and I never talked about that kind of thing."

Spencer sighed. This, no doubt, was a large part of their problem - Aaron closing himself off from what he really wanted and Haley refusing to talk about it. "We're not going to talk about her in this bed but you have to ask for what you want, Aaron. I'm not a mindreader. You have to tell me what you like and what feels good. Tell me your fantasies so that I can make them happen. I need to know if you don't like something or if it hurts. I know it can be hard for you but you have to tell me. How will I know if you want me to suck your cock or eat out your delectable ass if you don't tell me you want me to?"

Aaron whimpered at the tempting words falling from his lips.

"You like that? Someday soon we will do that but today I want to be inside you. I want to lift your legs and hold you open behind your knees and thrust inside of you so slow and deep that you feel every inch of me and you will all day long. Do you want that, Aaron?"

The older man whimpered and nodded, seemingly unable to speak.

"Words, Aaron. I need words."

He waited a moment before Aaron softly whispered, "Yes."

Spencer smiled down at him. "Lube." He pointed to the bedside table and Aaron reached over, practically throwing open the top drawer before scrambling with his fingers, looking for the tube inside.

"Do you have lube just hidden everywhere around here?"

"It always pays to be prepared," Spencer chuckled, taking the small tube from his hand. He slicked up his fingers before reaching back down, slowly dragging his fingers up and down the delicious, defined crack. "And I will have you perfectly prepared, Aaron. All slick and open, all ready to take my cock. You want that, Aaron?"

"Yes, god yes!"

Spencer smirked at the enthusiastic response. He took his time, slowly preparing the man beneath him. He watched intently, making sure he wasn't hurting the other man, but Aaron was so good, so obedient. He gave Spencer soft encouragement, rolling his hips and whispering, "Yes, Spencer," when something felt good or backing away and flinching, "Too much," when it didn't. The young genius knew he could easily get addicted to the sound of that voice with all its wanton wails and hoarse, smoky undertones.

Finally, he was satisfied that the other man was ready. He stripped off his sleep pants and used the lube still on his hand to slick up his prick before wiping his hands on Aaron's discarded boxers. Placing a hand behind each of his knees, Spencer opened up the older man, spreading his legs wide to peer down at the place he longed to dive into.

"Spencer," Aaron moaned, his voice desperate. "Need you. Please. Please fuck me."

He pressed forward then, slowly breaching the tight ring of muscle. They both gasped at the feeling of hot, tight, stretch, too much. He waited until a deep breath was inhaled before pressing forward again. They played that game - press, stop, breathe, retreat. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, Spencer was fully seated inside that hot, constricting passage. He leaned down, wrapping Aaron strong, corded thighs around his waist.

"No," he whispered against Aaron's slack lips. "I'm not going to fuck you. I'm going to make love to you. Just like you deserve, just like I know you want. I'm going to fill you and give you everything you desire and when you come, it'll be like being reborn and you'll know what it's like to be loved. You'll be a whole new Aaron Hotchner."

Bracing himself on his hands on either side of Aaron's head, Spencer slowly, so slowly pulled out before just as achingly slow, pressed back in. The older man groaned and arched, trying to get more, trying to get faster, but Spencer refused. Lowering his head, Spencer began to kiss and explore, tracing just the tip of his tongue over the parted lips beneath him before dipping down inside. Aaron tasted of coffee and copper and something just this side of sweet. He moaned when his tongue was drawn into his lover's mouth before Aaron began to suck on it. He sealed them together then - lips, chest, hips - all fused together as he continued the slow, torturous attack.

Fingers began to dig into his ass, directing, forcing, trying to get him to speed up, harder, faster - _please_.

"No," he whispered again. "Like this. You'll come just like this."

They continued to roll and writhe, Aaron panting and Spencer taking what he wanted and giving Aaron what he needed. He shifted every now and then, changing angles and marvelling at the new sounds and gasps he could get to fall from Aaron's lips. It was heady and delicious. He felt like he could live off those sounds alone for the rest of his life.

Then, suddenly, Aaron was coming. It was like Spencer had just pushed it out of him, slowly forced it out of his body. Aaron gasped and panted through it, his cock pulsing on and on in long streaks that painted both of their chests and bellies. Even then, Spencer never stopped. He kept his thrusts at the same pace, the same strength, just kept making love to him until Aaron collapsed in a puddle of spent goo.

He kept going, staring down in the dazed, hazy brown depths watching him. He watched for any sign of discomfort, for any indication that he needed to stop. He braced himself on his right arm while he trailed his other hand over the sweat slicked skin - his chest, his shoulders, his abs. It was all so beautiful, tanned and defined. He reached his hand beneath him then, hooking his hand beneath Aaron's lower back, bringing his hips up and arching his back, changing the angle and thrusting in ever deeper. Soon, Aaron was arching up again and his name began to fall from the older man's lips.

"Spencer. Jesus, I didn't think...this has never. Fuck! I'm...what? What is..? Spencer!"

He was coming again. His dick twitched and pulsed, though little to nothing spilled out. That was when Spencer let go and met his end, releasing deep inside his lover.

He leaned down, taking the soft lips with his own.

"That," he whispered into Aaron's mouth. "Is making love."

**  
**

They stayed like that for a long time, holding each other, neither wanting to spoil that moment. Eventually, Spencer softened enough that he slipped free and they reluctantly began to move.

"Shower?" Aaron asked.

"God yes," Spencer answered. He gently extricated himself from the profiler's arms before rolling off the bed. "I'll start the water. Join me when you're ready."

Walking into the bathroom, the young genius pulled out two insanely large, fluffy towels, hanging them on the hooks by the shower before starting the water. He loved this shower. The three different showerheads that had different settings and options was a big factor but he loved it because it was huge and completely open. Stepping inside, he set the temperature exactly where he wanted it and quickly stepped under the spray. He groaned when the hot water hit his aching muscles. He was going to be sore for a few days, between the fight and the sex. But it felt good. It felt so very good.

“Christ," he heard whispered behind him.

Turning around, he smiled at Aaron who was standing in the doorway staring.

"I didn't realize that whole thing was the shower."

"Come and see what it can do."

The older man stepped forward, confident in his nakedness if a little gingerly as well. As he stepped closer, Spencer noted the bruises and scrapes mottling his body. He felt bad, knowing that he had been the cause of those marks but it was all necessary and ultimately satisfying. He reached up with long fingers to trace the bruises along Aaron's stubbled jaw before trailing down his body, following the trail of water over the hard planes of muscles. He gasped when he felt Aaron begin to do the same. Rough fingertips grazed his side and Spencer flinched at the slight pain there. The older man hadn't broke his ribs but they were most definitely bruised and would take some time to heal properly.

"I'm sorry," Aaron whispered. "You know, I wouldn't have kept kicking you but..."

Spencer stopped him with a gentle kiss. When he pulled away, he just smiled.

"Hotch. I was a twelve year old child prodigy at a Las Vegas Public High School. You kick like a nine year old girl."

They both half chuckled at the lie while they continued to clean up, each taking turns washing the other before reluctantly rinsing off to get out. Spencer wished they could stay here, could make this moment last before they move on to the awfulness of their shared reality, but he knew they needed to go. There were things that were better taken care of sooner rather than later and he wanted to make sure Aaron was safe because, right now, neither of them were.


	15. Feeling Like a Criminal

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Feeing Like a Criminal**

Following their shower, they reluctantly began to dress. Aaron gave Spencer a disbelieving look as he held up his ruined shirt.

Spencer just shrugged and smirk unapologetically. Turning to his closet, he began to rifle through his clothes, looking for something nice but comfortable to wear. Aaron came up behind him, his jeans still open and hanging off his hips. The older man reached around him and began to look at the outfits hanging in Spencer's wardrobe. His rough fingertips brushed over silk and butter-soft cotton shirts, cashmere sweaters and pants, skin tight jeans, a leather jacket, two expertly tailored Armani suits and even a tuxedo.

"You've been holding out on me," he whispered against the skin of Spencer's neck as he dipped his head down to place a gentle kiss on the warm skin at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. "You could have been dressing like this the entire time and you let me suffer seeing you in those old, oversized grandpa sweaters and worn corduroys?"

Spencer chuckled, pulling on a pair of nearly worn through jeans. "Yep. But if I had dressed like this," he indicated the beautiful clothing before them, "Would you have really talked to me? Been my friend? Or would you have been too intimidated by my looks to even consider flirting with me?"

He noticed Aaron take a moment to think about it. "No. You're right. You probably would have scared the hell out of me."

"Exactly.

"You know, you would have made one hell of a profiler."

Spencer laughed at that. He supposed he would. He reached deep inside the closet to pull out a shirt he never wore. He handed it to Aaron with a smile.

"This ended up in my bag a few years ago. No idea who it belongs to but it should fit you."

Aaron pulled on the soft, long sleeved henley, running his hands over the smooth fabric.

"Did it belong to someone you killed?"

Spencer shrugged. "Probably."

He watched as Aaron shook his head. He knew this had to be hard for the other man - to see him how he truly was. He only killed those that deserved it. It was one reason he'd been unable to kill Aaron in the end. He walked out into the front seating area, pulling the dark purple cashmere sweater over his head and leaving his feet bare.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"Insanely," Aaron answered. "I can't believe how hungry I am. I haven't felt this hungry in weeks."

"It's the antidote. Now that all the toxins are coming out of your body, you'll start feeling better over all and that includes your appetite."

Aaron shook his head, heading into the kitchen. "Do you have stuff to fix or do we need to go out?"

"We have some things. I'd rather wait until we have a solid plan before we leave here. I have no idea how long it will take before Elle figures shit out and she's sure to try to take us both out."

"She's that good?" Aaron asked.

"She took out Perotta."

"Wow." They stared at each other for several moments. "So? Breakfast?"

"Sure."

Spencer started the coffee while Aaron rummaged around for something to fix. Satisfied that he had what he needed, Aaron turned and smiled. "I'll cook. You do what you need to do so we can get this over with."

He nodded as he walked into the seating area, gingerly stepping over the broken furniture. They had made quite the mess the night before. He'd apparently been a little too distracted to notice just how much. Pulling out his disposable cell, he made his first phone call.

"This is Doctor Reid. I need to cancel two reservations."

"Yes, Doctor," the voice answered. "Will you be rescheduling these reservations?"

"No. Just cancel them please."

"Very well. Did anyone show for these reservations?"

"No."

"Excellent. Just send the addresses and we will handle that for you."

"Thank you."

Spencer immediately hung up and texted to two addresses. He hated to do it, but this was necessary. The man would make sure that both of Spencer's old apartments would be completely emptied and cleaned, not leaving behind even the tiniest bit of forensic evidence. He had loved his lab and had grown to really like the apartment he got to have Aaron over. Starting over was never easy but to keep Aaron safe, it would be worth it.

Smelling the tempting aroma from the kitchen, Spencer headed that way, sitting at the table and sipping his coffee. Aaron continued to work while he made the second important call.

"Runaway Roasters. How can I help you?"

"Kevin. It's The Doctor."

"Hey Doc! I finally got that file all ready for you. You want me to put in your box?"

"That'd be great, Kevin. I appreciate it but I've got something else I need from you."

Spencer looked over when Hotch spun around, staring at him, eyes wide. "Hang on a second, Kevin," he said, quickly muting the phone, waiting in anticipation for what the profiler had to say.

"Kevin?" Aaron whispered. "Kevin Lynch?"

Spencer nodded.

"That's the name of the FBI undercover agent."

He froze. It made sense. The tech guy came on board after Tyler disappeared. The FBI must have made Tyler a deal and he turned. This changed everything.

"Kevin?"

"Yeah, Doc?"

"I need to come by and get that file now. You going to be there for a little while?"

"Oh, you're coming now? Is there a problem?"

Spencer stared at Aaron. "Well, the job will be done soon. Just making sure everything is solid, you know, trying to get ahead of the situation in case anyone gets suspicious with the mark being FBI and all."

"Yeah, that would suck. No worries, Doc. I'm on it."

"Good. I'll come in and get it myself in a little bit."

He hung up without waiting for a response. "Fuck me." he whispered.

"What?" Aaron asked.

He took a deep breath. "Let's eat and I'll tell you."

They sat down for the small but tasty breakfast that Aaron was able to whip up with the supplies in the safehouse. When they were about halfway through, Spencer sighed.

"The FBI knows you were being targeted by The Guild."

"Excuse me?"

"I asked Kevin to put together an extensive file on you because I was intrigued by you. That was right after our first meeting. That was before Perotta. If he's undercover, he has to be checking in with someone. There is no way the FBI doesn't know that I was killing you."

They sat in silence, simply staring at each other. Finally Aaron spoke.

"What's our next move?"

"Aaron, are you okay?"

"I'll deal with that as soon as we figure out what we are going to do. First thing is to take out Elle, right? That's what you said so let's do that first and then we will deal with the rest."

"Aaron, are you sure you're..."

“God dammit, Spencer!" Aaron exploded, his fists slamming on the table. "No! I'm not sure I'm okay! This whole thing is fucked! My wife hates me and has been trying to kill me! The man that I had a crush on and thought was my best friend was slowly poisoning me and now I find out that the FBI didn't try to stop it! No! I'm not fucking okay!"

Shoving the table away, Aaron stood and began to pace, gripping his short raven locks in his fists and pulling hard. Spencer watched him, waiting for him to calm. Finally, the older man collapsed on the couch, head back and staring at the ceiling. Spencer stood and walked over until he was standing over the other man, looking down at him.

"I'm sorry, Aaron, I really am. But we can do something about this. Are you going to help me or are you going to sit around and feel bad about it? It's your choice."

Sad, pain-filled brown eyes stared up at him. "What do we do?"

"First we go visit Kevin."

They pulled around the back of the simple nondescript building. A simple sign that said "Runaway Roasters" was hanging over a heavy wooden door. Spencer walked up and put an overly complicated code into the keypad before the door buzzed and let him in. As they moved to step over the threshold, Spencer turned to Aaron and nodded. They both pulled their firearms. Spencer signaled the other man to stay back, at least for now.

"Kevin?" he called out.

"Doc?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. Hey, I got that file for you."

He walked around the corner, somehow surprised to see the tech genius all alone at his desk, smiling at him, holding out a thick file.

"Thanks Kevin. Is Elle here?"

"Nah, and I haven't seen her in a while. Last I heard she was working on a job on the West Coast."

"Perfect." Spencer raised his pistol, training it on the shocked man before him.

Kevin's hands shot up and he began to stammer. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! What's up, Doc? I don't have any..."

The words froze when he saw Aaron step out, the glock pointed at him.

"Agent Hotchner?"

"Kevin," Spencer said, stepping closer and taking the file from the trembling man. "I'm going to ask you several questions and I want you to answer me clearly and truthfully. You know that I don't have a problem killing you and right now, I doubt Aaron will either. Do you understand?"

The tech nodded furiously.

"Does anyone know that Aaron is still alive?"

"No one has said anything yet but you haven't reported completion of the contract yet so, you know, no request for payment - nobody's dead yet."

"Who do you report to?"

"For The Guild?" Spencer nodded. "Elle. Everything goes through Elle."

"So who is the Boss Man?"

Kevin chuckled. "I told you. Everything goes through Elle. Everything."

Spencer felt his blood run cold. Of course. Elle was the one who recruited him. Elle was the one who handed out assignments and distributed money. Here he thought maybe he could go and talk to the Boss Man, plead for him to let Spencer and Aaron live and just disappear, but now he knew. It had been Elle all along. They'd never be able to make it with her still around.

"Who do you report to at the FBI?" Aaron asked harshly, his voice quivering slightly.

"Agent Cramer but he's not who has been making the decisions about this part of the case."

"Then who?"

"The Section Chief."

"My Section Chief?" Aaron asked. "Erin Strauss? You're sure?"

Kevin only nodded.

Spencer turned to look at his lover. Aaron looked like his entire world was falling down around him. He couldn't let the man fall apart, not now.

"Kevin," he snapped. "I need you to do me a little favor. Actually, it's a pretty big favor and it might get you killed but if you don't it, I will make sure you die a very slow, very painful death from a lovely cocktail I made that will simply liquify your insides."

The tech's eyes grew wide. "O-kay."

Spencer smiled as he began to lay out his plan, hoping that they would all, somehow, get out of this in one piece.


	16. Now or Never

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Now or Never**

The next day, the two men stood side by side in Spencer's safehouse, dressing for what might be their last time. Spencer had asked Aaron to dress in his suit from his go-bag while he strapped on his body armor and dressed in his favorite suit before layering it with his trench coat. He'd emptied his armory and Aaron had been in awe, looking at the cache of weapons. Even for someone who had worked for the FBI, the collection was impressive.

Spencer hid multiple guns, clips and magazines on his person, knowing that this was going to be a fight - one that he might not be able to win. His only hope was the element of surprise.

Aaron had taken his own weapons, slipped them in their normal holsters before picking up another of Spencer's, hiding it in his jacket pocket.

"Just in case," he said.

Aaron was not a fan of this plan but Spencer had assured him it would work, even if he wasn't one hundred percent sure himself. Once they were dressed and strapped, they stood and looked at each other. Spencer stepped in, leaning in close before taking his lover's face in his hands, lightly stroking his cheekbones with his thumbs. Slowly, so slowly, he pulled Aaron to him, pressing the gentlest of kisses to his soft, warm lips.

Aaron opened up beneath him, giving himself and taking from Spencer. Slowly the intensity of the kiss began to build until they were clutching at each other desperately. Finally, Spencer got himself under control and pushed Aaron away just enough so that they could breathe.

"Tell me that won't be our last kiss," Aaron whispered, his eyes and words frantic with need and fear.

"That won't be our last kiss," Spencer whispered back, sounding calm and confident, even if he didn't feel it. "Ready to go?"

Aaron nodded. He supposed it was now or never.

It seemed so simple. So simple it should work. Unfortunately for Spencer, sometimes simple was always followed by complicated.

He had gone back to his old apartment and broken in. He was impressed with the work the cleaners had done. It had looked as if no one lived there for months even though he and Aaron had been there just days before. They'd laid Aaron out and made it look like he was dead. Quickly snapping a picture on his phone, he had sent it to Elle with a note.

***It's done. Had a complication. Meet me at the dock.***

The response was quick.

***Be there in an hour***

They loaded into Aaron's vehicle - the profiler hiding, lying down on the backseat - as Spencer quickly sped to the warehouse. He knew he needed to get there before Elle if he was going to keep the element of surprise. Pulling into the parking lot, he was happy to see that Elle's vehicle wasn't there. He'd gotten there first. Perfect.

He pulled open the old, rusted door and drove in before parking off to the side. He made sure the SUV was in the shadows so when Elle looked inside she would think Aaron was actually dead. While she was checking, Spencer would take her by surprise and, hopefully, knock her out. Once she was awake, he would try to talk some sense into her. If that didn't work, he would have to end their partnership permanently.

He turned off the car and stepped out of the vehicle. Leaning into the backseat, he whispered to Aaron, "Stay down. Be as still as possible. And whatever happens, whatever you hear, don't come out."

"Spencer, I don't thi..."

"No," he interrupted. "I know Elle. I know how to play this. You stay here. It'll be fine."

Getting out of the vehicle, he sighed and walked further into the warehouse. It was quiet and calm and he should be readying himself for the confrontation with his mentor, but for some reason, he felt like something was off. He turned in a circle to see if he could find the source of his unease.

He started when he heard his name gently called from the far end of the room.

"Spencer."

He turned, making sure to have a wide, welcoming smile on his face. "Elle," he greeted. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I didn't figure you would since I was here when you got here."

Spencer's blood ran cold.

"So? Had a problem with the hit? I saw the picture. He looked plenty dead to me."

"Yeah," Spencer responded, working hard to keep the tremors out of his voice. "The hit worked but a little too well. He died right away. It was supposed to take up to twelve hours so he would die at home. Now - I've got a body."

"Spencer," Elle sighed, sounding very put out. "Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. For being such a genius, you certainly are dumb sometimes."

They had both started to take several steps toward each other, slowly circling as they drew closer together.

"I just got the formula wrong," he started to explain. "It was a very complicated..."

"Bullshit!" she screamed.

Spencer froze. He'd never heard her like that before. Now he was scared.

"How stupid do you think I am, Spencer?" she yelled as she reached behind her back to pull out her main weapon. Spencer mirrored her, suddenly worried about this plan. "Do you really think that I don't already know that you've burned both your apartments, that you've taken your little FBI boytoy and run? I'm not a idiot, Spencer. I've been doing this a long time."

Spencer tried hard to control his breathing and his heartrate. He had to think, had to find a way to outsmart her.

"You're the boss. All this time. You couldn't tell me? After everything we've been through, you couldn't trust me with something like that? What the fuck, Elle?!"

"What the fuck?!" she shouted back, nearly charging at him as she raised her gun. "You betrayed me, Spencer. **ME**! I gave you everything. I served Jason Gideon up to you on a platter. I gave you the chance to take out the man that would have been your boss. And that arrogant asshole would have run you into the ground. He's a demanding, heartless, drill sergeant. But you had to go and fall in love. You broke the first rule."

Spencer raised his weapon, wondering when all of this had gotten so far out of his control. He fired off a shot about the same time she did. They both dove to hide behind pallets and storage boxes.

"Don't worry trying to explain. I already know it all. You called the cleaners after you ran to your safehouse. Good job, by the way. I still don't have coordinates on it. You were very sneaky with that one but I would expect nothing less."

"Well, like you said, I learned from the best," Spencer answered before standing up and taking a couple of shots in her direction.

"What did you think was going to happen, Spence?" She fired off three shots of her own, one extremely close to Spencer's head. "That you'd come here and plead your case and I'd just be so understanding that I'd let you go?"

"Well...kinda?" He snuck around the container he was hiding behind to see if he could get behind her or get a better shot.

"And then what? Did you ask Mr. Perfect FBI what he would want next? Do you think he's just going to forget that you're a killer for hire, that you murdered his mentor and you tried to kill him? Did you think you were going to get a happily ever after? You're deluding yourself, my friend. He's going to want you to turn yourself in and you're going to spend the rest of your miserable life in prison."

Spencer jumped up and fired several shots, emptying his first weapon. Releasing the magazine, he reloaded before firing off a few more rounds.

"And you _will_ be spending the rest of your life is prison. You want to know why?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't .

"Because you have nothing to corroborate your story. There won't be anyone left. Perotta is dead. Tyler _accidentally_ fell on Laine's knife about half a dozen times while he was in protective custody. And then there was Kevin. Poor guy. You'd think the FBI would send someone to infiltrate a den of hitmen with a bigger set of balls. Kevin spilled everything - even the fact that you brought one Agent Hotchner to the office - **my office, Spencer!"**

"Elle, please, you don't..."

"I don't what, Spencer! I don't understand? Of course I understand. You turned on me for dick! You know I can't let that stand. But it'll be okay. Laine is going to take care of your little boyfriend and then I'm going to take care of you."

"Aaron..." Spencer whispered. He tried to look toward the SUV and he realized that Elle had maneuvered him so that he was on the far end of the room - and Aaron was so far away. He popped his head up to see if he could see the vehicle. "Aaron!" he shouted, just a bullet whizzed by his head.

Three shots sounded from the far side of the warehouse.

"No." he whispered. "No. NO!"

His vision flashed white with rage and fear. He stood and turned, ready to face his attacker head on despite the fact that Elle appeared to have the upper hand. When he saw her, he was surprised to discover that they had gotten so close to each other. That gave him an advantage. With Elle's sharpshooting skills, distance was her friend, but now that they were close, Spencer charged. Twenty one feet - that was all he needed. It took Elle a moment to raise her weapon and that extra second was Spencer's advantage. He easily knocked the gun from her hands and tackled her to the floor. Falling on top of her, he felt her shoulder give way as it made contact with the concrete floor. Knowing he had to incapacitate her somehow, Spencer gripped her arm at the elbow and pulled hard, up and away, until he felt the joint dislocate with a sickening "pop".  He quickly flipped up so he was straddling her waist before cocking back his fist and landing two hard blows to her jaw. As the third came toward her, she turned, hooked her good elbow around Spencer's wrist and followed through, pulling him off of her until she was now above him. Landing heavily on his side, Spencer groaned and winced as his tender ribs were constricted between her body weight and the hard, concrete floor. Even the body armor could not protect him against that.

Sensing a weakness, Elle brought her knee up and swiftly rammed the area over and over, making it nearly impossible for Spencer to breathe. Flipping to his back, Spencer brought both of his hands up quickly, slapping the side of her face right over her ears. Elle fell back, cupping her face, fighting through the pain. They both stood and squared off. Blood dripped from split lips and they both limped slightly as they circled each other, Elle cradling her aching arm.

"You'll never win this, Spence," she taunted. "What about your rule? No women, no kids?"

"I've broken almost all the rules recently. What's one more?"

They charged each other again - trading blows at a feverish pace. Spencer knew she was aiming for his weakness, his ribs, and if she kept kicking and hitting like she was, they'd be sure to crack under the pressure. He had to get her down, get her off of her feet and then maybe he could dose her with the syringe of the paralytic he had prepared for her. He dropped down into a crouch and threw this left leg out, hoping to sweep her legs out from under her, but he miscalculated the move, telegraphed too much, and she easily jumped over his attack. Just as he was reaching into his jacket to retrieve the syringe, she was on him. Her left knee pressed harshly into his ribcage and he heard more than felt his ribs snap. The syringe fell from his lax fingers and she kicked it away before pulling out his last remaining firearm.

She stood, blood pouring down her face from her split lips and broken nose. Black hair now matted in the crimson patches on her skin and left eye swollen and purple. She pointed the gun down at him, forced to use her non-dominant arm. Spencer trembled - the pain, the fear, the anger all making him heave and wheeze. Aaron was gone. Everyone was gone. Maybe it was time to die.

But he couldn't let her win. He wasn't going to let her win.

He started to stand when she pulled the trigger. Searing pain shot through his right knee. He collapsed back to the ground, clutching the aching joint. She stepped closer to stand over him as he rocked in pain.

"See, Spence?" he said, her voice rough and weak, but still bitter and hateful. "I told you that you couldn't win against me. You know why? Because I'm a professional. I follow the rules. Goodbye, Spencer."

The shot sounded loud in the open warehouse. Spencer waited for the pain - waited for the blood to begin to pour out of his body and pool around him. But as he watched, he saw a small red dot form on Elle's shirt. Slowly, it began to bloom, like the first flower of Spring, opening up across her ruined shirt. The red grew wider, spreading faster and faster until it nearly soaked the front of her. She collapsed to her knees and fell to her side, dead eyes wide open and watching him.

Hearing his name as if from a distance, Spencer pulled his gaze away from the body to see a beautiful figure running toward him.

"Aaron?" he croaked. "You're..?

"Shit! Spencer? Spencer, stay with me they're almost here, I promi..."

"FBI!"

He heard multiple shouts from all over - in front of him, behind him. They were being raided. He didn't know whether to be happy or upset.

"Morgan! Over here! I need a medic - HURRY!"

Aaron was yelling, at others, at him, to stay awake, to stay with him, to please don't die.

The last thing Spencer saw was concerned chocolate eyes begging him to live before everything went black.


	17. Don't You Ever Tame Your Demons

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Don’t You Ever Tame Your Demons**

Awareness rolled over him slowly - the gentle beeping behind him, the hum of the artificial lights overhead, the plastic stuck in his nose, the smell of antiseptic and recycled air. **_Shit_**. He was in the hospital. He reached up to push the hair away from his face when he was stopped, metal clinking loud in the quiet room.

"Spencer?"

He slowly opened his eyes, one at a time, to look at the concerned face staring down at him.

"Aaron?" he croaked. He reached up to touch the beautiful face hovering over him when his hand was restrained again. Looking down, he frowned at the handcuffs attaching him to the bed. "I'd always dreamed you’d tie me to a bed but I never thought it would be like this."

They both chuckled at the sad joke but Spencer winced at the intense pain in his side.

"Careful," Aaron chided. "Two of your ribs are broken and you just got out of surgery."

"Surgery?"

"Your knee."

Spencer looked down to see the thick bandage wrapped around his right knee. He was in pain - large amounts of pain all over - but now that he was aware of it, all he could feel was the throbbing in his leg. He groaned lightly as his head fell back against his pillow.

"The damage?"

"The shot was a through and through. No major joint damage, thank god, and just a little ligament damage. You'll have to be off it for six to eight weeks and then some physical therapy. You're lucky Elle didn't hurt you worse."

"Very lucky. What happened to you?"

"That blond guy..."

"Laine," Spencer interrupted.

"Laine," Aaron continued, "He snuck around the back of the SUV when I was listening to you and Elle fighting. Something happened just as he went to open the door and it was enough to let me know where he was. I killed him - two to the chest and one to the head."

"So this?" Spencer asked, lifting his hand with the handcuff wrapped around wrist.

"My team came to help us. It was one reason why it took me so long to get to you. It took Penelope a little while to get a lock on our location. Once they knew who you were and what you were doing, they had to arrest you. In fact, now that you're awake, I really should read you your Miranda Rights."

Spencer chuckled. "Not necessary. I know them well enough to do them myself." He dropped his eyes, staring at his cuffed wrist. "What's going to happen now, Aaron? Where do we go from here?"

"We get you an attorney and talk to the prosecutor to get you a deal."

He shook his head sadly as he whispered, "It's no good. Elle took out everyone involved so there is no one left to back up my story or even prosecute since you took out Laine and Elle. Why would they need me? Who would I testify against?"

"Haley," Aaron whispered, nearly too quietly of Spencer to hear.

"Of course," Spencer nearly blurted. How stupid could he be? "Of course I'll testify against Haley."

"And we can always make a case for conspiracy for all the other clients you had. We could use your recordings."

Spencer smiled. Yes, he could do that. "Okay, I can..."

"Hotch?" someone called from the doorway. "He up yet, man?"

Spencer looked to the door to see a broad, bald man leaning in through the doorway. Derek Morgan, his brain supplied. The man stared at him, eyes narrowed.

"So this is the pretty boy you've been hiding from us?" he asked as he stepped into the room. "Not so pretty right now, is he?"

"I'm sitting right here," Spencer complained, huffing slightly in annoyance.

"And he's sassy. I like him."

"What did you need, Morgan?" Hotch asked, suddenly all business.

"The brass is here. They want to talk to you and The Doctor here."

Aaron sighed. He obviously didn't want to deal with this right now but they really didn't have that option. When he turned and looked at Spencer with a silent question in his eyes, Spencer simply nodded.

"Bring them in."

**  
**

The interrogation had been long and arduous. Having just gone through two huge fights, hours of emotional turmoil and a surgery, Spencer was exhausted. Then having to deal with hours of questions was nearly too much and he found himself drifting off more than once during the questioning.

Aaron had stayed with him the entire time, refusing to leave despite the lead prosecutor’s insistence that he be removed. Spencer was happy to have him there with all of his legal knowledge. They had finally reached a deal. Spencer would testify against all of his clients by providing the taped conversations and going on record before the Grand Jury. In exchange, the State Department agreed not to prosecute him for any of his contracted killings, provided that he work for the FBI in a consulting fashion for as long as the Bureau saw fit and give all his research about the compounds he used to the government. It was more than Spencer could have ever asked for.

Once they were done hammering out the details, Spencer cleared his throat.

"I have one question."

When he received a nod that it was okay for him to go ahead, he asked, "Why did the FBI sanction the murder of Agent Hotchner?"

The attorneys looked between each other, obviously not expecting the question.

"We are not at liberty to discuss the details of the case at this point."

Very diplomatic and vague. Spencer hated answers like that.

"I think Agent Hotchner has a right to know why the Bureau that he works for didn't do anything when they knew he was the target of a very dangerous, very deadly hitman."

"You mean yourself."

"Yes, I mean me!" Spencer nearly shouted as he tried to sit up, instantly regretting that decision when his breath was nearly stolen for him in pain. "He should be dead. I chose to save his life but the FBI, his job, hell, his fucking life, was just going to let me kill him for a case."

"I think you need to calm down, Mister Reid..."

"I am calm and it's Doctor," Spencer practically growled before he felt a strong hand on his shoulder as Aaron pushed him back until he was resting against the pillows.

"Spencer," Aaron whispered, his lips close to his ear. "I'll get answers, I promise. Now is not the time. Let me fight my own battles."

Spencer huffed out an irritated breath. "Fine," he groused. "But just so they know, this is not the end of the conversation."

"Okay," Aaron half-chuckled. "Now rest up. We have a big day tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?"

"I'm going home," he answered, a wicked smile on his face. "And you're coming with me."

_*Knock knock knock*_

"Haley?" Aaron called, checking the door handle. It turned easily and the front swung open. "Honey, I'm home!"

"Aaron? Aaron, where have you been? I've been so worrie...Aaron? What the hell?"

It would have been comical if it weren't so damned tragic. Aaron stood on his own front porch, pointing his service weapon at his wife. She looked around and realized that it wasn't just Aaron - his entire team was there.

"What is going on?!" she demanded.

"Haley Brooks Hotchner," Morgan said as he stepped around his Unit Chief, pulling out his handcuffs as he moved, "You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit the murder of a Federal Agent. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..."

As she was cuffed and dragged away, she screamed, called out to her husband, begging for help, for answers, for understanding. But Aaron just stood, silent and stoic on his front porch, watching her being led away.

Agent Morgan had finished reading Haley her rights when he directed her into the backseat of the police car. She turned to stare at her companion in the backseat. She laughed, a bitter, ugly thing and shook her head.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," she sneered. "What are you doing here?"

Spencer simply lifted his hands, showing her the handcuffs wrapped around his own wrists - just like her.

"You couldn't do it, could you? God, you're such a pussy. I should have just let Elle shoot him in the head like she’d wanted to in the beginning."

"Why would you do such a thing?" Spencer asked.

"Jesus Christ, Spencer? Are you really so head over heels for him that you can't even imagine why I'd want him dead? He's boring and has no idea how to have fun or please anyone other than himself. All he cares about is his goddamn job and playing at being the hero. I deserved this. I deserved a good life without him."

Spencer just nodded and chuckled.

"What?" she shot back. "Nothing to say to that? Has the genius finally run out of things to say?"

"No. I'm just exercising my right."

"Excuse me?"

"These vehicles are equipped with dashcams, Haley. You agreed that you understood your right to remain silent. You chose not to exercise that right." Spencer leaned over and lifted his hands to wave at the small camera pointed toward them. "Say hi."

Haley's eyes were wide with shock. "No," she whispered.

"Yes," Aaron said as he leaned in through the open window on Spencer's side of the vehicle - the one that he’d asked to remain that way so he could watch the entire proceedings. "Great plan, Spencer." Just before he slid his head out of the window, Aaron leaned in close, placing a small, soft kiss to Spencer's lips, making sure to keep his eyes locked with those of his wife. Once he was gone, speaking with the other agents, Spencer leaned back, dropping his head back against the headrest as he softly began to laugh.


	18. But Always Keep Them on a Leash

> ** Chapter Seventeen **

**But Always Keep Them On a Leash **

Six weeks. It had been six long weeks since he'd completely changed the course of his life. He never thought he would be here. He had always been so careful, so meticulous about how he conducted his business. In end, Elle was right - he'd broken the ultimate rule - never fall for a mark. It had ruined everything.

But once he sat back and thought about it, he wouldn't have had it any other way. He had fallen for Aaron Hotchner and fallen hard. If Elle had taken the contract, Aaron would have been dead months ago.

For the first few weeks , his days were spent in protective custody - either in physical therapy for his knee or being questioned by investigators. They tore over his life, looking at every contract, every kill, every client he'd ever had. They had kept his and Haley's arrest out of the press so that none of his former clients would get spooked and run to escape arrest. Once he was done with the Grand Jury testimony, law enforcement would be able to get arrest warrants and then all hell would break loose.

It had taken an entire week - a full seven days of sitting in the courtroom and answering question after question. It was tedious and frustrating and he was sure that there was no way he would have been able to make it through the testimony if he hadn't had a friendly face in the gallery. Aaron sat in the front row every day, bringing a silent, strong calm that Spencer treasured. They never said a word but he knew Aaron was there for him, was waiting for him.

It was almost done, this was it. The last day. Spencer spent all day talking about Haley and Aaron and how the hit fell through. He kept their relationship out of it for Aaron's sake, but somehow, he felt like everyone knew. The way the looked at each other, the way he spoke about the older man. It really didn't take a profiler to figure out why Spencer had saved his life.

He sat on the stand, detailing that final day and how he and Aaron had finished off Elle and the last of The Guild.

"Agent Hotchner shot her just as she was preparing to kill me. He saved my life. It was at that point that I passed out and then woke up in the hospital in custody."

"Any more questions, Council?"

"No, Your Honor."

"Very well. You're excused Dr. Reid. We thank you for your testimony."

Spencer stood, happy for the first time in a long time. He was getting a second chance - a second chance to have a life, a life that involved the man he loved. He walked forward, a little shaky, but completely unassisted, toward Aaron who stood to meet him. Before he got there though, he was intercepted by two federal agents.

"Dr. Spencer Reid, you are under arrest for the murder of Federal Agent Jason Gideon."

"What?!" he heard Aaron shout from behind the two agents before him. "He has immunity for his testimony. I read the plea agreement. You can't..."

"Aaron," Spencer interrupted. He knew what they had done wrong, knew how the government had tricked them both. The plea agreement was for his contracted killings - he'd killed Jason all on his own. "Speed dial number two. Call John. Tell him Spencer needs to be picked up."

As he was being escorted away, he saw Aaron open the disposable cell phone and press it to his ear. He only prayed Aaron would understand why he was doing what he'd planned.

He couldn't believe this was happening again. He was taken downstairs, booked and charged. He waited in the small holding cell before he was summoned forward. He stared down at his hands at the familiar feeling of metal cuffs being wrapped around his wrists, closing tightly around him.

Standing in a different courtroom, Spencer was charged with the murder of Jason Gideon. Pleading not guilty, Spencer listened as they detailed his next court date and his need for remand. In just a few hours he'd gone from being a witness just waiting to be released to being a criminal looking at life in prison.

"Your Honor, due to Doctor Reid's past, we request that he be moved immediately to a maximum security facility to await trial."

"Motion granted. Please have Doctor Reid transported now to Federal holding."

Four men came up then, surrounding him, escorting him downstairs and toward the rear entrance of the building. He braced himself, knowing that this could very well be his last breath of fresh air for a long while. The door opened and he stepped out into the light, his eyes squinting at the bright rays of the late afternoon sun. Across the parking lot, he saw the two large, dark SUVs, one of which would be taking him away for good.

They stepped forward them, Spencer and his four escorts, walking across the parking lot. Suddenly, a black Mustang Mach 1 sped toward them, screeching as it tore toward them. Spencer gasped when it abruptly spun around and a figure in all black jumped out of the passenger's seat.

All four of Spencer's handlers pulled their weapons and prepared to fight. Spencer knew it wouldn't do them any good. He turned and lashed out with his bound hands, catching the agent closest to him in the middle of his back and knocking him down. As the agent recovered and spun to point his weapon at Spencer, he heard a familiar voice shout, "Get down!"

He fell to the pavement just as the bullet flew through the air and tore through the agents neck, taking him down. Spencer looked up as the figure in black spun and shot, throwing men around,hitting, punching, shooting. He heard the backdoor of the courthouse open as more agents began to spill out when he was grabbed by the back collar of his shirt and nearly tossed into the backseat of the still revving car.

"Get in and stay down!"

Spencer made sure to keep his head down as he moved fully into the backseat as much as he could with his tender knee. The driver leaned over and fired off several more shots before calling out, "Let's go!"

Taking out the last few agents, the figure in black jumped into the passenger's seat just as Aaron began to speed away.

They sped through town and Spencer sat up to see if anyone was following them. Luckily, there wasn't.

"John," Spencer sighed. "Thank you."

The other hitman turned and gave him a soft smile. "Just repaying an old debt, Spencer."

The young genius chuckled. "What are you doing here, Aaron?"

"I couldn't let you go down for this," he said, refusing to look back as he tore through the streets. "Here."

Spencer raised his hands to take the key Aaron passed to him over his shoulder. He quickly took off the cuffs and threw them to the floor of the backseat.

"Where are we going?"

"Safehouse," Aaron answered.

"And then you find a new home and a new life," John continued.

A new home and a new life with Aaron. It was too good to be true.

They emptied the safe house in no time, clothes, weapons and everything they would need to start their new life - their life together. Standing in the middle of the seating area, waiting for the movers John had called to come get what they couldn't carry, Spencer reached up and traced Aaron's strong brow before cupping his cheek.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, staring into the deep, loving chocolate eyes. "You're giving up everything. Everything you were, everything you are. How can you do that?"

"What I used to be is all a lie, Spencer," Aaron answered. "My wife didn't love me, my job almost killed me and my boss was willing to let it happen just to make herself look better by catching a national serial killer syndicate. What do I have to go back to when you're all I ever wanted?"

Spencer smiled and leaned in for a gentle kiss. Aaron pulled him in close, trying to deepen the kiss. Someone moaned, probably Spencer if he was honest, as strong hands began to reach under his shirt to press a warm palm against his lower back.

The clearing of a throat broke them apart. "Movers are here," John said with a smirk. "You might wait to continue that once you're alone."

Spencer chuckled lightly, dropping his forehead onto Aaron's shoulder. "Sorry John," he muttered. "We need to get somewhere safe until we decide where we want to settle."

"May I suggest The Continental? It's secure and they don't ask questions."

"Sounds good," Spencer said as they slowly separated. "I don't think we will be staying too long."

"Actually," Aaron whispered. "I'd like to stick around for a while. I'd like to see how the trial turns out. Besides, I have some unfinished business."

"Okay." Spencer sighed. He didn't like the idea of staying around the area, but if they played it safe, they would be okay.

He prayed they would be okay.


	19. What Goes Around

**Chapter Eighteen**

**What Goes Around**

Erin Strauss walked through the halls of the FBI, her heels clicking loudly in the late evening quiet. She had been pulling several late nights, more than her family was really comfortable with but it couldn’t be helped. She’d found herself in a very bad spot. First, she had lost Jason Gideon to what they thought was suicide but now knew to be a homicide after the profiler had sexually assaulted a recruit. Then she had lost the Unit Chief of the A Team of the Behavioral Analysis Unit when Aaron Hotchner helped a murderer to escape from custody. The respected Unit Chief had become a wanted fugitive - one they hadn’t been able to find yet. Now it seemed like the team was imploding without him - Andi Swan had transferred to her own unit in Sex Crimes, Morgan had taken over for Hotchner, but he lacked the experience and maturity to handle all the details of the job, especially the paperwork, and continued to buck Strauss’ leadership at every turn. Then, to make matters worse, Jareau was making waves, asking about how to become a profiler instead of being satisfied with her role as Media Liaison. Even Erin’s own handpicked addition, Emily Prentiss, was turning against her.

It had only been six months but it felt like a lifetime

To say she was stressed was a massive understatement. Everyone could see it.

She stepped into her office and froze when she realized she wasn’t alone. Her desk chair was turned away from her and she was sure she hadn’t left it that way. Just as she was about to call out, she heard, “Hello Erin. You're certainly here late. Shouldn't you be getting home to your family?”

She gasped. “Aaron?”

Hotch spun around in the chair then, smiling at the stunned woman. “Did you miss me?”

Before she could answer, Spencer stepped up behind her, one hand covering her mouth while he quickly stuck the needle in her neck, injecting her with the compound he’d developed just for her. Immediately, the drug began to work and Spencer easily moved her into the chair across from his lover.

Aaron leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the sturdy desk.

“You’re probably wondering why we're here,” he started, smiling lightly as if this was a simple meeting like they’d had so many times before. “I originally wanted to wait until Haley was transported to prison before we came to visit you. But we were always going to come to visit you, Erin. You were the one who gave the order to continue the case without informing me that I was the target of a hit. You were the one who sat back and saw the reports coming in and did nothing as I was slowly dying.

“Good job with convincing Haley to plea out, by the way. I know it was you that engineered that. Oh, Morgan may have actually talked her into it. But I know it was by your design. She tried to have me killed and she showed absolutely no remorse, not a hint that she even cares about anything other than saving her own skin. You made it so she’ll only serve ten years. Ten years for my life.”

“Doesn’t seem very fair, does it?” Spencer hissed in her ear.

“Aaron,” she whispered, her eyes and voice pleading with him. “Please.”

“Please what, Erin? Please wait? Please stop? None of that is going to happen. You are going to die tonight by my hand. You brought this on yourself. You were scared of me, worried that I was going to come in and try to take over your job. The sad thing about that? I <i>never</i> wanted your job. I don’t like politics and power. That’s something for people like you and Haley, not me.  I loved being in the BAU and I loved being a profiler. Do you know why?” He leaned in close to her face. “Because I’m so good at it. Would you like a demonstration?”

Aaron stood and paced around the office, taking in their surroundings. “The modern furniture, the strategically place magazines, the framed diplomas, the art on the wall are all in conflict with your family photos. You have three children, but you favor the middle one - your son.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” she tried to snap but her words were slurred from the drug.

“Of course you love all your children, but not like your son.”

“That’s enough.”

“The bonsai you obsessively nurture is to compensate for feelings of failure as a mother. And you are going to die now because even though you knew Spencer and I were out there somewhere, you refused the extra security detail that the AD offered you. You work late because you have nothing to go home to and this job is all you have. It’s why it was so easy to track and trap you here. It’s your pride and your arrogance that has killed you. We will be in and out of here before anyone even knows that you are dead.”

“Isn’t that the hottest thing you’ve ever seen,” Spencer mock whispered in her ear, his eyes locked with wild, hard brown. “I love it when he’s like this. It means I’m about to get fucked into next week. So thank you for that, Chief Strauss. I hope you die well.”

She whimpered then. Despite the drugs coursing through her system, she trembled in her seat. Her eyes tracked Aaron as he paced around the room before stopping in front of her.

“Time to die, Erin. But first…” He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, making sure to smear her lipstick over her face. It was his sign, his signature, the calling card of his new persona - The Lothario. He stood and quickly pulled out his favorite weapon before shooting her twice in the chest and once in the head.

Blood seeped from the wounds, slowly soaking her shirt and rolling in rivulets down her face.

Spencer stepped up to his lover. “Was it everything you dreamed of?”

“God, yes!” Aaron practically growled as he pulled Spencer in for a rough, demanding kiss. Spencer gripped Aaron’s shirt in his fists, silently begging him to get closer. He licked at Aaron’s lips, seeking entrance. The taste of Erin’s lipstick lingered and it both disgusted him and turned him on.

Hands gripped Spencer's shoulders, hard and unforgiving, and forced him away.

“Spencer,” Aaron groaned. “As much as I would like to take you right now and fuck you over this desk, we really should get out of here before someone comes up.”

“Fine,” Spencer sighed as he turned to look at the body slumped in the chair. As he pulled out his phone to take a picture, Aaron reached a hand out to stop him.

“What are you doing? This isn’t for a client. We don’t really need the picture.”

Quickly snapping a picture, Spencer replied, “Let’s just say it’s for posterities sake.”

Aaron chuckled. “All right. Now can we get out of here?”

Spencer bowed slightly before sweeping a hand toward the door. “After you, Agent Hotchner.”

“Why thank you, Doctor Reid.”

They swiftly made their way through the hallways, making sure to hide their faces from the cameras they knew were there, ducking into doorways when they saw the cameras swing their way. They were nearly to the glass doors that led to the BAU when they swung open, three agents walking in, laughing and chatting with each other until they spotted the two wanted men before them.

“Hotch?” Anderson asked, his eyes wide and frightened. “What the fuck?!”

The other two agents pulled their weapons, but Aaron and Spencer were faster. In just moments, two agents lay on the floor - one unconscious and bleeding, the other incapacitated just like Strauss. Anderson still stood frozen in shock, his hand hovering over his gun still in its holster.

“What are you going to do Anderson?” Aaron asked. “I’d really hate to have to kill you.”

“I can’t let you leave here, Hotch. It’d be my career.”

“Very well.”

The young agent moved to pull his weapon just as Aaron easily shot him in the leg. Anderson fell to the floor, clutching the bleeding limb in pain.

“Keep pressure on that,” Spencer said as he stepped over the yelling man. “If you keep them off our trail, I won’t disable the elevator so that the medical personnel can get to you before you bleed out.”

Anderson nodded. “I always thought you got a shitty deal, Hotch.”

The older man smiled at Spencer. “Let’s go. Good luck, Anderson.”

Pushing through the glass doors, Spencer pressed the button for the elevator before ducking inside.

“Spencer…” Aaron started before he watched Spencer push the buttons for all the floors above them.

“They’ll get here in time,” Spence explained with a smile as he jumped off the car before the doors closed.

“Let’s go!”

The two men scrambled for the stairwell, tearing down the stairs toward the parking garage. Spencer shook his head as Aaron easily jumped over the handrails occasionally, getting far enough ahead to check the doors to each floor, making sure they weren't being followed. He was jealous of his lover’s physical prowess but he knew that he’d benefit from it later.

He could hardly wait.

They made it to the parking garage without encountering any more agents and they jumped into the disguised SUV. They easily made it out and left Quantico, refusing to look back.

Aaron drove through the darkened streets, leaving his old job, his old life far behind.

“Now what?” Spencer asked.

“Now?” Aaron answered. “Now I take you home and fuck you until you can’t move.”

Spencer laughed long and loud. “That’s a given. But I meant after that.”

“After that, we get to work.”

“Perfect,” Spencer whispered as he sank down into his seat, letting Aaron take him away and into their future together.


	20. Epilogue: Killing Strangers

**Epilogue**

**Killing Strangers**

 

****

A roll of the hips. The slide of sweat slicked skin. The drag of a warm, wet tongue. Strong, rough fingers gripped his hips, holding him still, pulling him down. He groaned at the stretch, arching into every thrust. He gasped as jolts of pleasure shot through his body, making every nerve sing with desire. Every moment was filled with joy and just a touch of pain.

Spencer loved mornings like this. The two of them tangled together, sweaty and naked bathed in early morning light as they moved in an ancient dance that was for them alone.

Today, Aaron was braced above him, taking him in strong, powerful thrusts that were so slow and deliberate that it felt like a lifetime between each one, leaving him feeling hollow and bereft until he was filled again. He'd brought his legs up, wrapped them around his lover's waist, digging his heels into the other man's perfect ass in an attempt to get him to move faster, harder, anything but this slow, torturous pace.

But Aaron refused.

Hovering above him, Aaron didn't falter, wouldn't be swayed into giving more than he wanted before he was ready. He stared down, endless dark brown gazing deeply into wide hazel, piercing him, reading him, keeping him frozen in place against the soft sheets. Aaron continued to snap his hips forward, spearing him to the mattress.

They remained silent, their pants and gasps were the only language they needed.

Spencer wanted to look away, tried to, but he was stopped by a single word of warning from his love.

"Spencer."

Aaron continue his assault on Spencer's body, thrusting and rolling - as well as his assault on his soul, staring and consuming his every thought, exposing his every desire.

Finally, unable to take anymore, Spencer begged, "Please."

Aaron smirked before leaning down to brace himself on a single elbow. He reached between them to grip Spencer's leaking cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts. It didn't take long before he was coming hard between them, still caught in that intense stare.

Once he was spent, Aaron picked up his pace until it was nearly brutal as he chased his end. He came with a shout, pressing in deep, pulsing so hard that Spencer would swear that he could feel himself being filled to overflowing. Even then, he never stopped staring into Spencer's eyes.

He felt open and exposed, as if Aaron was looking inside him, through him.

Finally Aaron seemed to find his voice.

"Happy anniversary."

"Anniversary?" Spencer asked as he searched his memory for what this day could signify but he continued to come up blank.

Eventually, Aaron gave in. "Eight years ago today, a seemingly nerdy young man ran into me in a cafe and spilled his coffee all over me. He stammered and mumbled and was so utterly ridiculous and charming that I knew immediately that I was in trouble because all I wanted to do was to kiss him until we both couldn't breathe."

Spencer smirked. "Eight years since the day we first met? You remember everything, don't you?"

Aaron chuckled before leaning down to place a gentle kiss to his lips. "Says the man with the eidetic memory. I only remember everything that involves you."

"Lucky me," Spencer practically purred. They stayed that was for several more long minutes until Aaron softened and they were no longer joined together. "Shower?"

"Good lord, yes please."

Aaron stood swiftly before reaching out to take his hand. He all but dragged them both into the large, extravagant shower that he had insisted on, pushing Spencer underneath the warm spray.

Spencer sighed at the hands that flowed over his body, strong and confident but so soft and tender in their care. He washed every inch of skin before working on Spencer's hair, his fingers tangling and tugging at the wet, silky strands. When he was done, the younger man tried to return the favor but Aaron quickly moved away, quickly taking care of himself.

"Today is about you," he said with a smile as he began to wash up.

"Aaron," Spencer complained with a beautiful, playful pout on his face.

They laughed then before quickly stepping out. Once they were dried and dressed, Aaron sent Spencer to his office to work while he fixed breakfast. The young genius smiled at the ache in his body as he sat at his desk and began to work on the article he was penning under the name of Dr. Thomas Murton.  He loved their new life. The house was huge and secluded in a quiet suburban area. The mailbox out front teasingly painted _"Mr. and Dr. Smith"._

They continued to work - Spencer writing for several journals and Aaron consulting for jury trials - all under assumed names, of course. They took the occasional mark but they had mostly retired from the murder of hire business. Neither of them had taken a mark in nearly a year.

They had other concerns on their minds.

Just as he was submitting his first draft of his article to his editor, a little bolt of energy burst into the room before launching into Spencer's lap.

"Poppa!" the little boy yelled before wrapping his little arms around Spencer's neck. "Morning!"

"Good morning, Jack. You sure are up early today."

"It smelled good and I went to the kitchen and Daddy is making stuffed french toast and it's not even Christmas or my birthday or nothing!"

"Wow!" Spencer replied, smiling at his son. "I can't believe you said all that in one breath. That's pretty impressive."

"You're pretty 'presive," the young boy teased back.

"You're both pretty impressive," Aaron said from his spot leaning against the doorframe.

Spencer smiled up at his lover. He adored mornings like this - the three of them, just enjoying each other, sharing in their love together.

"Is it ready, Daddy!?" Jack nearly shouted.

"Inside voice, Jack. And it's almost ready. Why don't you and your Poppa go get washed up and it'll be all ready to eat when you come down."

"Yay!" the little boy shouted as he jumped off Spencer's lap and ran down the hallway.

The two men smiled and shook their heads, laughing lightly at the excited little boy.

"Hurry," Aaron whispered against Spencer's lips as they kissed in the doorway.

Spencer followed his son into bathroom, making sure that the little boy was all ready to go. Looking at the smiling face beaming up at him, he wondered how they had gotten so lucky. Jack was the perfect little man for them. He completed their family.

They had found him four years earlier. Aaron had been contracted by a husband to kill his wife who had been cheating on him - Aaron's specialty. But when he'd arrived on the assignment and taken care of the mark, he'd made an awful discovery - she had a child in the home with her.

Aaron had been so upset and shaken seeing the small crying nineteen month old baby boy that he had immediately picked him up and taken him home. Spencer had been more than a little shocked when his lover came home with a child in his arms. Aaron had informed Spencer in no uncertain terms that this was now their child. When he asked how, Aaron said that he would take care of it.

Three bullets later, the boy's father was dead and they had a stack of forged documents declaring them both the boy's adopted fathers. Spencer couldn't help but smile when Aaron decided to call him Jack.

"All clean," Jack declared, holding his dripping hands up for inspection.

Spencer leaned down to mock study the palms and every finger before nodding his head. "Dry up and head downstairs. We've got french toast to eat!"

Following the six year old bundle of energy downstairs, Spencer's stomach began to growl as he smelled the delicious aroma coming from the kitchen. By the time he sat down in his seat, he had a plate full of french toast and fruit and a steamy cup of coffee before him.

As they tucked in, Jack asked, "What's special 'bout today?"

"Today is our anniversary," Aaron explained, smiling at his son.

"What's a amma-mersery?"

"Anniversary," Spencer corrected. "It's a special day like a birthday. It just means something very special happened on this day."

Jack's eyes grew wide, his mouth forming a perfect "O". "What happened?"

"Eight years ago today, I met your Poppa," Aaron explained.

"Tell me the story!" the little boy demanded.

"What did I say about your inside voice?" Aaron chidded.

"Sorry, Dad."

"Besides, you already know the story," Spencer said with a smile.

"I wanna hear it again."

The two men chuckled. "Okay," Spencer started the story they had told many times. "Once upon a time there was a handsome young man who was a hired killer - a killer for money. A mean lady came to the young man and said, 'I want you to kill my husband and I'll pay you a lot of money.' The young man said he would do it because that was his job. But then he met the man he was supposed to kill. The moment he saw the man, he fell in love."

Spencer told the story, slowly weaving the tale he'd told the little boy over and over. They all ate their breakfast, listening as Spencer spoke. Once he was done with the story, ending it like he always did with "And they all lived happily ever after", Jack bounded up out of his seat.

"Happy amma-mersery Poppa and Daddy!" He hugged them both, his tiny arms squeezing them around their necks. Both men kissed the little boy's head before sending him outside to play. As their little bundle of energy moved toward the front door, Aaron leaned over to kiss his lover.

"I love it when you tell that story."

"You love it because I make you look like a badass."

"Hey! I am a bad..."

"Daddy!" Jack yelled, interrupting them. He tore into the kitchen, the look on his face wild and panicked.

"What's the matter, Jack?"

"John," the boy whispered, his voice quiet and trembling. "John's outside."

Spencer froze. It was never good to have a fellow hitman just show up on your doorstep - metaphorically or not.

Aaron immediately went into his Unit Chief mode.

"Jack. I want you to go upstairs and get in your safe place. Remember? I need you to go work the case with me. And take your stun gun with you. What's the rule?"

"If anyone other than Poppa or Daddy opens the box - shock 'em."

"That's my good boy," Aaron whispered before he kissed him on the top of his head. The boy's feet flew up the stairs as he ran for his Dad's office to hide. Once he was out of sight, both men moved quickly to their hidden wall safe and pulled out their weapons. Slowly they made their way to the door and looked out the bulletproof windows that lined the doorframe to find John Wick casually leaning against their perfectly painted mailbox.

Pressing the button to the intercom, Aaron leaned into the speaker.

"John?"

"Hi Aaron. Hi Spencer."

"What are you doing here, John?"

"I need to talk to you. Both of you."

"Talk? Just talk?"

"Just talk."

Aaron and Spencer stared at each other. They communicated silently trying to come to a decision without giving away their plan to the man on their front porch. Finally Aaron nodded and waited until Spencer moved across the room to find a space where he could cover the other hitman from a safe distance. Once he was in place, Aaron reached out and opened the door, spinning quickly to point his gun at the other hitman.

Once the door was opened, John raised his hands as he was ushered in the home. After Aaron had closed and locked the door, he turned to look at Spencer.

"Been a long time. How are you Spencer?"

"Good, John," Spencer answered. "Are you still working? And how is Burton?"

"Work is good. Burton is good too."

They all remained frozen - Spencer and Aaron with their weapons trained on the man with his hands still in the air.

"Can we stop all the bullshit and get to why I'm here?" Wick asked, a small smirk on his face.

"Please," Aaron said as slowly lowered his weapon and waited for Spencer to do the same.

They all stared at each other for a minute until John said, "I'm here as a friend. I promise."

Aaron nodded toward the living room and all three men moved to sit down. Once they were settled, Spencer asked, "What's going on John? We've been out of the lifestyle for almost a year now. We don't take contracts anymore."

"I know. I'm here because there is a bounty out for you. For both of you."

They gasped at that, shocked at the declaration.

"What?" Aaron gasped. "Who put a contract out on us?"

"Your wife."

"Ex-wife," Spencer corrected.

"How could Haley put a contract out on us? She's still..." Realization dawned on Aaron's face. "She's out of prison."

"Yes," John replied. "She was granted early release for good behavior. She's been out for over a month now. Apparently she moved in with her defense attorney as soon as she was released. I assume that he is funding her but she reached out and put a bounty on each of your heads."

"How much?" Spencer asked.

"One million."

"Each?!"

John simply nodded.

Aaron turned and stared at Spencer. Chocolate eyes met hazel and they seemed to communicate without saying a word.

Finally, Spencer turned to the hitman sitting on their couch. "So, John? Are you here to help us or to kill us?"

"Oh, Spencer. If I were here to kill you, you'd already be dead."

Knowing that was most likely unerringly true, Spencer turned to his lover.  "We will need to call Jessica to come watch Jack."

Aaron smirked. "And head down to the basement."

"You were right, you know. Less than a year since we put everything down there and now we'll have to go get them all back out again. What a shame."

All three men stood as one. Aaron turned to smile at their visitor.

"Would you like to raid our arsenal or did you bring your own, John?"

John smiled back at them. "I'd love to see what you have."

"I'll get Jack," Aaron said, heading up the stairs.

Spencer led them into the kitchen, opening up the door to the roomy pantry. Walking to the back on the small closet, he pressed on a hidden panel and the back wall swung open to reveal a narrow staircase. They quickly descended the stairs, lights along the walls illuminating the way as they went. Once they reached the bottom, Spencer began opening the cabinets that filled the basement. John stepped forward and looked at the wide array of weaponry before him.

"Impressive." John reached out and pulled out two guns - an AMT .45 caliber Hardballer and a Heckler & Koch MP5. He inspected the weapons before strapping them to himself.

Footfalls came down the stairs until Aaron stood before them, smirking at John's choices. "Very nice. Those are some of my favorites."

"Should I..?" he asked, indicating if he should remove them.

"No, please. Enjoy. I've got other choices."

Aaron pulled out several holsters and strapped them on before loading them with two Berettas, several Glocks, and a Ruger MP9. Spencer strapped on his body armor before loading up with two Glocks, several knives and his favorite revolver.

"Where's Jack?" Spencer asked.

"He's packing a bag. Jessica will be here in the next ten minutes."

"You still have your safehouse?" John asked.

"Of course. Only Aaron, Jessica and I know where it is and how to get inside so don't even ask."

"I wasn't planning on it."

Spencer sighed. They had been out of the game for nearly a year. They had stayed away from the life but now - now they were being dragged back by Haley once again. He was worried about what all of this was doing to Aaron. Aaron who had loved his wife, who had been betrayed by her and left to die. He stepped forward and took his lover's face in his hands. He pulled him in until Aaron's forehead rested on his own.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked, staring into the dark eyes he loved so much. "We're going to have a lot of killing to do. There will most likely be a long list of other hitmen coming after us - some we know and know well. It has been a while. We will have to hunt down Haley. We will have to kill her and the attorney. Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Aaron leaned in, kissing him deeply, longingly.

"I'm ready, Spencer. I'm ready for this to be over. And don't worry, I can handle it..." he said as he turned and quickly slipped his impeccably tailored suit coat on over his impressive frame. "Besides, I'm a professional."

**~~~THE END~~~**


End file.
